Mine
by Findabhiar Aery
Summary: Draco Malfoy watched Ginny Weasley all through school, and now, ten years later, in the world of big business, he has his chance. D/G Rated for naughty stuff, you are warned UPDATED Dec. 2011
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is Miss. Rowling's, everything else is mine, including the plot. Enjoy.

Chapter 1:

Draco Malfoy was not used to being patient. He was not used to watching something he wanted without taking it.

Ginny Weasley was a thorn in his side, and had been there since he had spotted her at the tender age of twelve. At first, at such a young age, he had not known what to do regarding his feelings. He had assumed his obsession to be hatred as his Father had wished, but in time, he had come to fully understand.

She was everything that was forbidden to him. Why did the dark seek out the light? She was Persephone to his Hades, yin to yang, and so on.

It was no longer enough to watch, he needed to touch; to feel anything beyond frozen.

He had watched as she had watched Harry Potter, and that had burned. He had watched as she had proven herself unafraid of him, hexing him, and he had felt proud. He had watched as she had come back the summer after her fifth year, looking more like a woman than a girl, and he had lusted. He had watched her go through boyfriend after boyfriend, and he had hated. She made him feel.

Right now, he could just barely see her through the stacks in the library, sitting, her redhead bent towards the piece of parchment she was writing upon so industriously. Draco glanced back to the book that was open in front of him, and cursed lightly under his breath. He was still on the same page that he had opened the book to over a half hour before.

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eyes, he swung back to see Ginny run her fingers through her long hair, tugging it back, and out of the way into a low knot at the nape of her neck. The colour glinted in the low lighting like fire, hot to the touch.

He shifted his attention to her lush pink mouth as he heard her mutter something indistinguishable, and heavily scratch a few lines out on her parchment. A smile crossed his pale face as he decided now was as good a time as any.

--

Ginny growled as she crossed out a sentence on her potions essay that she was sure would earn her a dunderhead remark from Snape. It was a difficult class for her, and she needed to do well with this assignment, or she could very well repeat the class, despite getting an O.W.L. in the previous year.

Why oh why did she need potions again? It wasn't as though there were any practical applications except for illnesses, cooking, pranks, future job prospects… she sighed in resignation.

"It's supposed to be 5 minutes after it turns purple that you stir it twice… not ten," a darkly silky voice informed her from over her shoulder. She turned to see Draco Malfoy leaning against a bookcase, looking quite unashamed to be reading over her shoulder.

"Do you mind?" she asked icily, hunching her shoulders over the parchment in self-defence. She did not really wanting to hear the tall Slytherin mock her potions efforts.

"Well, the way you currently have it written, you would have blown up the potions lab with your efforts," he stated softly, his voice surprisingly free of criticism.

Ginny looked back at him again. "Did you want some type of award? Go away!"

"You," Draco drawled as he folded his arms across his chest before completing his thought, "are quite rude. Someone helps you, and that is the thanks that they receive?"

"When the person is trying to be helpful, then yes, I would say 'thank you'." She turned back to her essay, turning the quill over in her fingers. "When they are trying to be a shit, I say 'Did you want some type of reward? Go away!' See how that works?"

Chuckling softly, Draco strode forward, and pulled out the chair beside her with a long, elegant hand. He sat side ways, facing her profile, as she studiously ignored him.

Reading over what she had just written, he shook his head. "You might want to omit that last little bit. You're veering dangerously close to creating _Amortentia_, and I'm not sure that is quite what Snape is looking for."

Ginny cursed like a sailor as she glared at her writing. He was right, bugger it all. She crossed out the last little bit with a heavy push on her quill, and dipped it back into the ink to continue.

"Still no thank you? I am shocked," he drawled lightly.

"Thank you," she muttered as she tried desperately to concentrate on the assignment. Malfoy was sitting so close to her that she could smell his spicy scent, and feel the warmth from his much larger body.

"Would you like me to look over your paper completely for you?" he offered in that same drawling, soft tone, that seemed to send shivers up her spine.

She looked over at him, noticing again just how close he appeared to be, how bright his silver eyes were. Shaking her head to clear the strange thoughts, she again tried to ignore him.

"I promise that I will only help… There must be other things wrong in your paper if you've been having that much trouble in the last five sentences." He leaned even closer, and took hold of the edge of the piece of parchment, pulling gently to see if she'd let him help her. She let him, leaning back to watch as he read over her essay.

His face was completely blank, giving away nothing of what he was thinking as he used his wand to make quick changes throughout her paper. Ginny watched him wearily, not entirely sure why this was happening. He had never been this nice to her.

Thinking on it carefully, she actually realized that he had barely ever said anything to her, besides the inevitable teasing in her first year for the crush on Harry. Looking back, though, she probably would have done the same thing if she were him, it had been quite pathetic.

No, he had been horrible to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but never to her. He had never acknowledged her existence, actually.

"Why are you helping me?" When she spoke, her voice was just as low as his had been.

He looked at her, his face still blank, and stared into her eyes for a long moment before his silver gaze dropped to her lips. "I think you may have some vague idea why."

She shivered again as he turned back to her paper, looking away she attempted to ignore his words, his tone.

Ginny had never really thought about Draco Malfoy, to be honest. He had always been on the peripheral of her school career, and she had assumed he felt the same.

Mutely, she accepted back her corrected essay, and looked over it quickly. It seemed that Professor Snape's preferential treatment of Draco had been justified, despite what Harry and Ron had always said about him. Her thoughts ran wild as she looked through the changes he had made, impressed by what she was seeing. And that had all been done off the top of his head.

Lifting her eyes to meet his Ginny quietly stated, "I don't understand."

"I want you, Ginny Weasley." He pitched his voice low to match her soft voice. "I've wanted you for a long time."

"Want me?" she repeated, her voice carefully devoid of all emotion.

"Not just your body, if that's what you're thinking," He smirked slightly at her, his eyes remaining steady and level, holding her gaze easily. "I want to know your mind, know your thoughts. I also want your delightful little body, but that's just part of the package."

"Am I supposed to be impressed by that?" Her voice rose at an alarming rate, and Draco resisted the urge turn around to make sure the veritable harridan that protected the sanctity of silence in the library was not bearing down on them. "I am vastly under whelmed!"

"Were you looking for a declaration of love?" Draco drawled leaning forward and reaching out so that his hand could cup her cheek gently.

"No!" She knocked him away angrily, and stood. "I'm looking for a 'Hello, I'm Draco Malfoy. Your name is Ginevra Weasley? It is lovely to meet you.'"

"Excuse me?" He blinked, not entirely sure what she was talking about, and deciding to go with the one part of her little speech that stood out to him. "Your name is Ginevra? What on earth were your parents thinking?"

"What?" It was her turn to blink, and then shake her head angrily as he had thrown her off the beginning of a very good rant. "It's a family name! And you are not one to talk, _Draco._"

"Draco is a fine name," he responded coolly, feeling insulted by this slip of a girl. "It's a constellation."

"I don't care," she enunciated carefully. "Look, you do not ignore a girl for the entire duration of her school career, making her brother and his friends' lives miserable, and then suddenly, out of the blue, at the end of your seventh year, spring it on her that you 'want' her."

"Why not?" He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head, looking the epitome of cool composure. "I was being completely honest with you. Isn't that what girls want?"

"Look, Malfoy, if this is some kind of trick, I'm not buying it. Ha ha, very funny. Now you can go back to your Slytherin buddies and have a nice big joke about the poor Weasley girl who almost fell for your shit."

She glared at him, before stalking out of the library. Her exit was slightly hampered by the fact that she had forgotten not only her essay, but her quill and her book bag.

Slinking back into the room a few moments later, Ginny flushed as she made her way to the table.

Malfoy held out her bag with a long-fingered, pale hand. He had neatly packed her belongings away, and barely even glanced at her as he perused the contents of a book. Not bothering with pleasantries, Ginny left again.

Two weeks later, receiving the essay back from Snape, she was astonished to receive her very first E in his class. Accompanying the scrawled red letter was a note that complimented her on her use of ingredients, and the amount of research she had put into her writing. She was not amused.

_Ten__ Years Later_

"So we are agreed that the future income is based on our current expenditure on this new opportunity, but that it is necessary due to our increasing competition based upon overseas outsourcing?" Lavender Brown spoke bluntly, her voice businesslike. She looked back and forth between her two partners, stylishly cut hair shining as it swung around her shoulders.

Ginny nodded in agreement, and looked to make sure that Seamus Finnegan was of the same accord. He looked troubled.

"I do not feel that this will help us in our issues with the Malfoy Enterprises planned takeover. Can we discuss their offer once again? I feel that it is pretty fair, and that they have more to offer our employees than we do at the current juncture." He folded his hands over his stomach, and looked from Lavender to Ginny who were both watching him with expressions of dismay.

"Seamus, how could you?" Ginny cried, forgoing the formality that they tried to impose on their official meetings. She leaned forward with her hands on the table. "They've outsourced so much to third world countries, and their influence within the Ministry of Magic is growing daily. We can not be aid this by allowing them to gain control of BrownFinneganWeasley."

Lavender nodded, obviously agreeing, while Seamus continued to look sceptical and ill-at-ease. "I will cede to whatever the majority wishes, but I want to let you both know how I feel about this now."

"All those in favour of this proposal?" Ginny asked her partners. Seamus was the only one that raised his hand. "All opposed?" Ginny and Lavender raised their hands in quick succession.

"Decision made," Seamus spoke heavily, noting their decline of the Malfoy offer on the papers that occupied the space in the middle of the table. The quick quill that was recording the minutes of their meeting signed off with a flourish.

Exiting the conference room, Ginny smoothed her hair into the shining chignon at the back of her head, resigned to the small tendrils that had escaped to lie on her forehead and over her ears.

Desks were laid out in groups, indicating the different departments that made up BFW Quidditch Supplies and Accessories, Incorporated. Glancing over at the marketing team, Ginny noticed how busy they all were trying to format their new line of Quidditch sweaters aimed at everyone from the smallest baby, to the oldest Wizard.

The new line was one of her projects based on a childhood of having Quidditch gear designed solely for athletic adults, and thus hampering any movements a younger player might make. Also, she had seen in the Muggle world how fans wore copies of their favourite player's kits on a regular basis. This trend was bound to become huge in the wizarding world if she had anything to say about it.

Ginny made her way to her office, determined to look over the newest advertising campaign that featured Oliver Wood of the Chudley Canons. He had almost single-handedly pulled the team from the last place in the national Quidditch league, to now heading for the championship. Ron, she reflected, had almost cried at the last match that had been won by his beloved Canons.

Pulling off her tight suit jacket, she unbuttoned the sleeves of her tailored silk blouse from her wrists, and rolled them up almost to her elbows.

Noticing that her assistant had placed the file of pictures for the new campaign on her desk, she started going through them with a critical eye, grateful that the Canon saviour, and her former classmate, was incredibly photogenic.

Positioning the large BFW logo over each layout, she smiled. Ginny was so incredibly proud of their company that had grown at such a tremendous rate since Lavender, Seamus, and she had founded it just over four years prior. She had actually been working for a Muggle advertising company at its inception and it had been mind-boggling how much work they had all put into it.

As was her custom, Ginny stayed at the office until her eyes felt like they could not stay open any longer, and then she made her way through the building. Noticing how empty and dark it all seemed now compared to the crazily busy atmosphere of almost six hours prior, she made sure to enact the security and protection wards as she left.

Using the designated apparition point just down the street in Diagon Alley, she stumbled into her comfortable flat located on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. She had moved there directly from school, much to her mother's dismay, and had never looked back since. Well, almost never.

Ginny flicked her wand at the lamps that were dotted throughout her small sitting room, and pulled off her high heels to pad into the kitchen, intent on finding something to stave off her hunger.

Forgetting to eat seemed to be an occupational hazard for her, and she subscribed to a magical shopping system that replenished her cabinets and icebox once a week. It would have horrified her mother if she had known, but Ginny had neatly compartmentalized her life into two categories. The first what her mother could and was able to know about, the second, what she felt that her mother could not handle.

Her lack of a love life fell into that second category. Her interest in gardening fell into the first category. Her ability to care for herself, or lack thereof, fell into the second. Her new robes fell into the first. It was a good plan, and it had worked for her for years.

Pulling a ready-made shepherd's pie from the ice box, she tapped a warming spell onto it with her wand. Eating it right from the tin she settled down in her arm chair to read _The Prophet_ which had been delivered to its box on the coffee table.

A picture of Draco Malfoy seemed to jump out at her in the business section, his arm around a beautiful blonde at some function. The accompanying article chronicled his business successes, and how he had taken Malfoy Enterprises to new and great heights as the youngest CEO in over a century. Little was said about his personal life, and for that Ginny was thankful.

She had not seen him since that meeting in the library at Hogwarts, which had become hazy with time, but she tended to read about his successes in the paper. She did this while staying away from the more salacious articles about his life as a popular bachelor.

Reading about him and his company right at that moment though, did not feel like a guilty little secret. The week prior, Malfoy Enterprises had made a very good bid for BFW, though Lavender and she had outvoted Seamus on even considering it. Ginny's teeth clenched, before she forced herself to relax. This was how business worked; it was no use getting upset.

Pushing the thick paper to one side, she pulled a file out of her briefcase to pour over the proposals from various publishing houses on getting the new ad campaign out into the public eye.

Her administrative team had done an excellent job of researching the various firms, and putting together logs of pricing for the marketing team. At the end of this campaign, Ginny mused that she would need to take them all out for a nice lunch, and maybe a bonus would be in order.

Ginny's area had always been the marketing and promotions side of their business, and that was her passion. Lavender acted as the company's spokesperson, thanks to her incredibly charismatic and personable nature. She also did the accounting and books for the company. Seamus did development and research due to his love of the sport. It was a good partnership.

Frowning at just how much _The Prophet_ had raised their advertising prices, she made a note to Floo her _Prophet _contact, Hannah Abbott, in the morning. She signed off on the spaces offered by _The Quibbler_, as well as _The Quidditch Quarterly_ magazine. She made a few more notes in the margins of the parchment to look into poster advertising on Diagon Alley, as well as perhaps a few pamphlet placements inside some of the larger pubs.

Stretching, Ginny finally stood to fetch a cup of tea before retiring to her bed with the latest romance novel her mum had loaned her.

It was a load of tripe, but at least it allowed her mind to rest. Molly Weasley had started making rumblings about Ginny getting married and settling down. Because of this, a new novel espousing the ideals of love was shoved into her hands at each Weasley Sunday night dinner. Ginny tended not to mind, as it seemed to lessen her mum's worries about her single status and the possibility of dying alone, though she didn't quite see the connection.

Ginny woke the next morning to her Floo connection beeping urgently at her from her living room. Blearily reaching for her wand, she stared at it for a long moment before realizing that it was not her alarm going off.

Growling to herself, she reached for her robe and padded out to kneel in front of the fire place, swirling her wand at it as she went.

"Can I help you?"

"Ginny?" Lavender's head appeared, her regularly immaculate appearance looking decidedly bedraggled. "Ginny, I am so sick."

"Oh dear…" Ginny slid away, out of sheer force of habit, to avoid germs despite knowing logically that this was just a Floo call. "Have you tried Pepper Up, and all that?"

"Yes, and I am still feeling dreadful." Lavender turned away to sneeze into a handkerchief. "I'll have to stay home today."

"Yes, of course." Ginny watched her friend in concern. "Do you need me to bring you anything? Soup?"

"No, I have what I need. Thanks Gin. Can you just let Seamus know, and… oh bugger!" Lavender's eyes widened almost comically. "I have that meeting with Malfoy Enterprises today!"

"Oh dear," Ginny murmured again, looking over at her kitchen longingly. Having woken up slightly, she now really needed her habitual cup of coffee.

"Ginny, listen. You're going to have to take the meeting." Lavender's voice cut through the haze of coffee lust.

"What?" Ginny turned back to her partner. "You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack," Lavender confirmed. "Look, everything you need is on my desk. Take Ben with you, he's been my right hand man with the Malfoy stuff."

"Why can't he just take it in your place then?" Ginny frowned.

"Ginny, come on, you know that we need a formal partner of BFW to deal with them. And we can't very well send Seamus… Merlin, he would probably show up in his coveralls."

"Why does it have to be me though?" Ginny sighed, not even looking at Lavender's face. She knew she was being a brat. "Sorry about that, I'll be there. Don't worry about a thing, feel better."

"Thanks Gin. I knew I could count on you." Lavender smiled before coughing, and waving off.

Ginny sat on the hearth, staring off into space, when her wand went off signalling her usual time to wake up. Yelping, Ginny almost tossed the piece of wood into the fireplace.

A few hours later found Ginny working on her fourth cup of coffee, sitting at Lavender's desk going over her notes for the meeting. It was pretty straight forward. They were declining the offer, but thanking the Malfoy group for their interest, blah blah blah.

Ben Wiggins hovered in the background, listing out information, advising her of who would be at the meeting. He had also been making the world's best coffee for her all morning, thus proving to Ginny that he was worth his exorbitant salary as Lavender's assistant.

"Time," she barked, reading BFW's profit statement for the last quarter.

"Eleven."

"Good." Ginny stood, carefully placing the notes and statements into her briefcase before smoothing her dark suit over her hips. She threw her good black robes around her shoulders, taking a glance in Lavender's mirror before apparating to the designated spot in the lobby of Malfoy Enterprises. Ben followed her closely with yet more paperwork.

The entrance bespoke the immense history and wealth of the company, with black marble gleaming in the discreet and elegant lighting. An efficient receptionist swiftly greeted them, offering them a beverage and pastry as she led them to the designated boardroom deep within the building.

Ginny said little, trying to see everything without appearing to be gawking like a child at a shiny toy. Merlin… Malfoy Enterprises was already intimidating her.

Smiling confidently, or so she hoped, Ginny entered the room and encountered about seven powerful looking wizards in suits, files and quills set out at each place on the highly polished table.

Nodding to the Ministry representative, who ensured fairness in the business world, she took her seat, Ben quickly sitting next to her.

"Gentlemen," She spoke smoothly, hoping her face did not show her nervousness. "Miss Brown is unfortunately indisposed today, and I have taken her place. I am Ginevra Weasley."

"Miss Weasley," the murmur ran around the table, the suits greeting her in their own peculiar way. A Malfoy lawyer started going over the acquisition bid, and all of the stipulations and provisos necessary for the minutes of the meeting. The Ministry representative took careful notes, often asking for clarification on points. Nodding, he motioned for Ginny to take the floor.

"Thank you gentlemen, for your time and patience in this matter," she started, keeping her face completely blank. Going on to detail the last profit and loss statement, as well as expected revenue from their new line, as well as a warning about the possibilities of monopolies within the wizarding business world, she sealed her case with the Ministry's representative.

She declined the offer politely, before passing out the necessary paperwork that Seamus, Lavender and she had signed the day previous. The lawyer nodded, as did his associates. They had expected this move, and he hurriedly countered with another offer.

The rest of the wizards spent almost an hour questioning Ginny, making it clear that they were intent on bring BFW under the fold of Malfoy Enterprises.

Ginny spoke little, taking the new offer and handing it to Ben to file and calling the meeting to an end. It was not with a little bit of relief that Ginny finally was able to say, "I must get back to my partners to see if this is agreeable."

"Of course."

Leaving the meeting, Ginny put her fingers to her temples. She hated dealing with all of the legal and Ministry procedures. It was a hassle. This was exactly why Lavender tended to deal with the suits.

She made her way back to the lobby, when an impeccably dressed woman bore down on them. "Miss Weasley?"

"Yes?" Ginny quirked a golden red eyebrow at what appeared to be someone's personal assistant.

"Mr. Malfoy would like to speak with you in his office." She smiled officiously, and subtly steered Ginny back into Malfoy Enterprises.

Ginny stopped and stared at her. "I don't have time for this. Can you pass that note along to your boss?"

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy said this would just take a moment. Please, if you could follow me…"

Short of throwing a temper tantrum, and disrupting the quiet efficiency of the lobby, Ginny did not see a way out of this 'invitation'.

"Ben, I will meet you back at the office. Have that offer ready to present to Seamus and Lavender when I return."

He inclined his head, and though a curious look passed across his face, he apparated away quickly.

Ginny was shown into a sumptuous office on the top floor of the building with a wonderful view out over Muggle London. Decorated in chocolate browns and creams, the office screamed money and power.

Looking around for the CEO of Malfoy Enterprises, Ginny realized that she was quite alone in the office.

Taking advantage, she made her way to the window, staring out at the view, the sunlight glinting off of numerous windows and the Thames peaking out in the distance.

"I love watching the city…" a silky voice drawled next to her ear, alerting her to the fact that Draco Malfoy had moved as silently as a cat to stand behind her.

Controlling her impulse to jump in surprise and move away which she suspected would be seen as weak, Ginny turned slightly to look up at him. "It is lovely."

Moving away slowly, she made her way to one of the large, comfortable-looking chairs that sat in front of his desk. "Now, what do we have to discuss, Mr. Malfoy?"

Smirking slightly, he slipped his hands into the pockets of his charcoal grey suit, moving not to sit in the large leather chair behind his desk as she had expected, but just in front of her, leaning against the large wooden surface.

"I was just informed that you have declined a very generous offer for your little company."

"I have," she agreed easily, watching him intently. Draco Malfoy had aged incredibly well in the ten years since he had left school. He had matured into the early promises of masculine good looks, and he seemed to have broadened from his almost too thin seeker build.

Shoulder length silvery hair was captured elegantly at the nape of his neck by a leather thong, emphasizing well-cut cheekbones, and clear grey eyes. His lips were almost too dark for his face, the pink shockingly sensual along with the fullness of his lower lip.

"Why?" Ginny watched his lips form the word, before settling back into that unnerving half-smile, half-smirk.

"We decided that it was not in our best interests to accept."

"How diplomatic," he mocked lightly. Malfoy was watching her with a look in his eyes that made her slightly uneasy. It was a hungry tiger look.

"We do try." Ginny stood gracefully. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to my office."

"Oh yes, how is the new campaign coming?" Arching an eyebrow, he seemed the epitome of polite and innocent interest.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, not trusting him in the slightest. "It is fine. We are about to go to print."

"Interesting…" Malfoy drawled easily. "Did you know that Malfoy Enterprises has a holding in many media outlets?"

"No, I did not know…" Ginny watched him, wondering where this was going.

"It is not common knowledge." Malfoy's smile widened fractionally, he seemed to be almost purring with satisfaction. "We tend to be better known for our manufacturing interests."

"All based out of Taiwan," Ginny muttered, not quite under her breath.

Malfoy smiled in a feral fashion, exposing even white teeth. "Indeed. I like to take a personal interest in the media. The wizarding world does not have nearly the same amount of competition as the Muggle world."

Ginny nodded, knowing she was supposed to have figured out why he was telling her all of this, and thus feeling rather stupid, and angry at the tall blonde in front of her.

Pushing away from the desk, Malfoy straightened his broad shoulders, making Ginny's eyes race to where the expensive fabric clung to him lovingly. He walked the few steps necessary to be uncomfortably close to the small redhead.

"For example, we really only have two respected newspapers, a handful of women's magazines, one men's magazine, and about ten Quidditch magazines. The rest are either tabloids, or Muggle newsprints."

"Fascinating," Ginny remarked somewhat cattily, her caramel eyes narrowing.

"And our laws dictate that story and advertising content are at the sole discretion of the editors."

"Yes, I know that…" Ginny gasped as what he was saying started to fall into place, "Are you threatening our new campaign?"

Malfoy spread his hands in an elegant gesture that could really mean anything.

"Malfoy, I swear…" Ginny clenched her fist around her briefcase, concentrating on breathing deeply to dispel the notorious Weasley temper.

Watching her in amusement, Malfoy turned and made his way to his desk chair. Settling himself there he watched her intently with his fingers together against his chest.

"You can't do this!" Ginny resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

"You will find that I can," he answered coolly, his face expressionless. "What a pity that you have put so much stock into your new campaign… and all of that money that was spent to tie Oliver Wood to a contract… Seems a little wasted now…"

Ginny flinched at his softly musing voice. "We will find other venues to advertise. There are other ways."

"Ah, like getting a Ministry license to advertise in public areas such as Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley." He braced his chin on his fingers, "It really is too bad that Malfoy Enterprises donates so much money to the Ministry. We would hate to let go of that kind of relationship over an advertising issue. I'm sure that the Minister for Public Works would agree."

Grinding her teeth, Ginny dropped her briefcase to the floor, and made her way to his desk. Bracing both hands on the smooth edge, she leaned over it to glare at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"You," he answered baldly, not disguising the look of lust in his mercury eyes. "You spread-eagled on my bed, writhing, all of that pale skin on display against my sheets, your hair spread out on my pillows, lust in your eyes, whimpering, and wet."

"You're disgusting!" She whirled away from him, trying to block out the image that he had just put into her head.

"Am I?" Again, he spoke from behind her. This time, she couldn't control the instinct to jump slightly in shock.

"Am I?" he asked once more, his breath feeling hot and heavy on the side of her neck.

"Yes." She turned to him, and hissed out her answer. "I turn you down when I was all of sixteen, and now you are threatening my company?"

"It's funny how the world works, isn't it," he mused rhetorically, that feral look in his eyes again making her feel trapped. She held her ground as he moved so that they were almost touching, not taking her eyes from his face.

Drawing a single pale finger down the side of her face, he smirked at her. "Dinner. Tonight. Eight o'clock at The Truffle. If you are late, I will take that as a signal that you are not truly interested in salvaging your campaign and company. Wear a dress."

A/N: ok… originally this was a one-shot, but it just turned into so much more. Please review and let me know what you think. I'm enjoying writing this Draco… mature, sexy Draco is awesome…. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

To say that Ginny was furious was an understatement. She was beyond that futile emotion now. 

There was really no question of her missing the dinner with Malfoy. He could ruin BFW if he tampered in their advertising plans. She couldn't imagine doing that to Lavender, or Seamus, or any of their employees. They had all worked far too hard to get to this point.

In no mood to present the new offer from Malfoy Enterprises to her partners, she had put that particular meeting off until the next day. Pulling her wand from the special pocket inside her suit jacket, she pointed it at the empty coffee mug that sat on her desk.

"_Reducto_," she said sharply, watching in satisfaction as the drinking vessel was suddenly made up of ceramic pieces on the carpet of her office. 

Malfoy had effectively forced her hand, and she hated him for it. Ginny had spent the better part of the afternoon researching alternatives, and he had been right. The only option was really to ask Quidditch shops to carry their merchandise along with pamphlets, and that really was not good enough. Plus, she had a sinking feeling that Malfoy's influence would extend there as well.

Ginny had also been checking up on the Malfoy Enterprises holdings, and again Malfoy had spoken the absolute truth. Apparently, Malfoy had quietly become a media tycoon. It was infuriating. No other revenue for advertising would come close to what he had control over. 

What's more, she hated the fact that she could feel a frisson of attraction run through her in his company. It had felt the same as that one meeting in the library at Hogwarts, but magnified somehow.

Pacing the floor in her office, she thought back on her meeting with Malfoy. Growling under her breath, she kicked her shoes off upon deciding she was in no mood to deal with high heels.

"Jackass…. Bastard… Wanker… Bugger… Fuckwad…" It felt good to get some of the anger out in verbal form. 

"_Wear a dress_," she mocked his silky voice in a high-pitched falsetto. Then, she concentrated on his arrogant face then imaging her fist connecting painfully with his nose.

Just as she was getting to a really satisfying crunch of bones breaking, and blood spewing, there came a knock on her door.

"Yes?" Ginny mentally shook herself, trying to not scare whomever was about to enter by the look of her in her crazed state.

"Ginny?" Colin Creevey's voice called before he actually made his way into the room. "Gin, I have the latest proofs from the shoot with Wood on the pitch."

"How do they look?" 

"Amazing. I got some great action shots of him on his broom, along with him walking off the pitch wearing one of our sweaters. The colours look great, the focus is perfect and I just need your final go-ahead."

"Great, I'll take a look at them tonight," Ginny winced before continuing, "actually, I'll have to look at the tomorrow."

Colin looked at her with interest. "You? Not working for once?"

"It happens," she responded dryly, making a point of looking at the clock across the room.

"It never happens," Colin denied vehemently. "I've worked for you for three years, and I have yet to see you take a vacation. You work every night, and the only social life you really have is drinks with your girlfriends on Fridays, and dinner at your parent's on Sundays."

"Have you been following me?" Ginny glared at him. It was not the best time to provoke her temper, and she felt fully justified in telling off the nosy photographer who seemed to forget that he was technically her employee.

"No need. You're the biggest creature of habit I know," he grinned cheerfully. "So, what are you up to tonight?"

"That would be none of your bloody business." She sat down behind her desk and ruffled some papers importantly.

Colin, completely ignoring her hint, took the seat directly opposite. A large grin crinkled the corners of his bright blue eyes, before he asked her innocently, "its Harry, isn't it?"

"Merlin!" Ginny threw out in mild disgust. "Harry's another prat brother. Here, I have an idea, why don't you go and earn your money for once?"

"Nothing doing until you look over those proofs." Colin leaned back, raising one long leg to rest his ankle on his knee. "Is it that new bloke in accounting? Padma has been salivating after him."

Ginny rested her forehead on her desk for a brief moment. "Colin, please. I need to work. You need to be elsewhere."

With a final grin, he levered himself up, and sauntered away. "Tell me about it tomorrow!"

A creative, and yet rude hand gesture was his farewell from the frustrated redhead. 

Ginny left her office earlier than usual that evening, unable to think beyond what Malfoy had said to her earlier in the day. 

Her apartment was dark, lonely, and Ginny again pushed the idea of getting a cat out of her mind. That would simply solidify her sad existence to her mum… and, if she was honest, to herself as well.

Scrounging through her icebox, Ginny made herself a snack of apple, cheese, and baguette before deciding to try to get over those proofs. 

It was a few minutes before Ginny started to wonder if perhaps Colin had had a point. Was she really a creature of habit? But, if she were, just if, mind you; would that be such a bad thing? Habits, schedules, routines ensured that the world kept turning as per usual, without which there would be complete and utter anarchy. 

At least, that's what she assured herself.

Ginny checked the clock on her wall, noting that it was getting dangerously close to '_Get moving or you will be late!_'

Rushing through her usual makeup charms, she lingered over her hair, before pointing her wand and forcing it into a tight, low twist. Turning her head from side to side, she looked herself over with a critical eye, before nodding with satisfaction and muttering a sticking charm to ensure that everything would stay in place. 

Ginny made her way to her wardrobe, and spent long moments perusing the selection within. Nothing screamed "hands off, Malfoy" in the way that she was looking for, and it was getting ever closer to eight o'clock. 

Shoving the gown that she had worn to the Ministry Christmas Ball a few years prior to one side to see the back of the tight space, she smirked. She had her dress.

The Truffle was _the _place to see and be seen in the wizarding world. Located just north of Diagon Alley, it was known for its dark intimate corners, its famous patrons, and its soufflé.

Ginny gripped her formal robes to her protectively against the inevitable gathering of rabid reporters and photographers that lined her route up the steps from the apparition point to the main door of the expensive dining spot. They were out in full force, despite it being a rather innocuous Thursday evening. Thankfully, it appeared that the newest Quidditch celebrity was a few meters behind her, and she nimbly picked through the crowd who were busy screaming for his attention.

A maitre-de swept her inside the establishment, and without further ado, assisted her with her outer robes. Ginny tried to interrupt to give him her name, but he simply smiled and spoke in a quiet and professional voice, "good evening, Miss. Weasley. We have been expecting you. Mr. Malfoy is right this way."

Despite herself, Ginny felt her eyebrows quirk in surprise. Clearly, Malfoy had even more influence than she had gathered to get such preferential treatment in a place such as this. She walked past the many tables, trying not to gawk at the fact that the amount of sparkling jewels could have bought and paid for her childhood home many times over. 

The elegantly dressed wait-staff also served to intimidate her to a certain degree. Suddenly, Ginny was supremely conscious of her ridiculous outfit and she made a concentrated effort to keep her head high, and her back ramrod straight.

She was shown to a beautifully appointed private room, where Malfoy stepped from a dark corner upon her arrival. The maitre-de seemed to simply vanish from the room as Ginny stared at her dinner guest. He looked… well, she chose not to linger over her impressions of Draco Malfoy in formal attire. Adequate would be the word she would settle on a few days later. 

A bottle of what looked to be very expensive white wine sat chilling in an ice bucket, while another of red stood on darkly gleaming side table breathing. Ginny breathed in a sigh of relief. _Alcohol_. That would definitely help.

Malfoy motioned for her to stand still, just a few steps in from the door. Sucking in a breath to tell him exactly what she thought of him and his high-handed tactics, Ginny found herself frozen in place as his bright eyes caught and held her own.

Radiating satisfaction, Malfoy proceeded to walk around her in a fashion not unlike a stalking panther, looking her over in the flickering candlelight. Free from the hypnotic gleam of his silvery eyes, she was startled to hear a low chuckle emit from his throat, and turned slightly to glare at him. 

Smirking, he moved to her side, and held out an arm in a calmly polite manner, an arch of a pale eyebrow seeming to dare her to touch him of her own volition. 

Refusing to play his game, she stared at him stonily, before moving to the elegantly laid table. He was again beside her in an instant, sweeping her chair away from the table, helping her to be seated.

The silence was getting to be too much for Ginny, and she spoke as she laid her small black clutch down beside her place setting. "Why have you asked me here?"

He ignored her question for a long moment, taking his time to settle himself across from her, folding his linen napkin in his lap with a careless grace. "Do you really need me to answer that question?"

Ginny shivered both at the look in his silver gaze, as well as his slow seductive drawl. She mentally shook herself and then responded with, "look, I didn't agree to anything."

"Did you not?" Again, he arched an eyebrow, looking for all the world as if he was mildly bored with the situation. It was only when Ginny met his eyes that she saw what he was truly thinking. They fairly glowed with what could best be described as hunger. 

"No, I didn't, and you bloody-well know it!" She crossed her arms over her chest, and glowered at him. The motion brought his attention to her attire once more, and again that low chuckle reached her ears.

"Might I say love, that that dress does not do you justice." He was darkly amused at her attempt to defy him.

Ginny willed her cheeks not to colour, as he surveyed her garb. The dress that her mum had bought for her at the age of fifteen to wear to her great-aunt Perpetua's funeral in North Hampshire had seemed the perfect choice for this evening. It was big, and black, and covered everything from nape to knees. A step beyond her original idea of "hands off, Malfoy", it was closely infringing upon "I know I shall never have a shag again". 

Malfoy, by contrast, looked incredible, and she hated to admit that even to herself. He too was dressed primarily in black, though with a few shots of silky grey thrown in for contrast.

Ignoring him in favour of taking a sip from her heavy crystal water glass, Ginny glowered over these traitorous thoughts. In that moment, an unobtrusive waiter made an entrance to offer a sip of the white wine to Malfoy. Upon his approval, two shining wine glasses appeared and the heady liquid was served.

Malfoy stared at her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip, lingering there until the waiter had left just as silently as he had arrived.

Ginny stared at the white plate and silver charger that made up the table in front of her.

"I am quite astonished," as he spoke, his voice was again the darkly silky drawl that she was quickly learning to despise, despite, or perhaps because of its seductive quality. "I had always thought you to have more claws than a mere kitten."

Caramel eyes shot up to meet silver, the dark lashes narrowed as she glared. He toasted her silently with his glass, a mocking smirk gracing his features.

"I have nothing to talk to you about," she said as she tilted her chin minutely and looked away.

"Oh, I would beg to differ," he replied, his voice again betraying a dark amusement. "At least your outfit has been screaming at me from the moment you stepped through that door."

Ginny stonily stared at him as a plate of savoury delicate pastries appeared between their plates. He chose carefully, his fingers long and white, and looking more than capable in the soft lighting. Again, Ginny turned away.

"Tell me, Ginny, how did you come to found BFW with Brown and Finnegan?" Ginny started slightly as his low drawl sounded. He watched her with that extreme intensity that she wondered if he used to intimidate his business associates, or more likely, enemies with. 

"Why? I'm sure that you know everything," she spat, not bothering to look in his direction as she took a healthy swig from her wineglass.

"Humour me." Malfoy's voice compelled her attention, and she turned slightly to see him staring at her intently, as if she was the only thing that could or did matter. Swiftly, she decided that particular habit was used against enemies. 

Swallowing against her surprisingly dry throat, Ginny took another sip of her wine, surprised to see that it was already half gone.

Forcing herself to place the glass back on the table, Ginny was careful not to spill with her suddenly nervous fingers. 

She answered his question quietly, "I left Hogwarts and worked for a Muggle advertising house for a number of years. I liked it, but I thought that the market was over saturated, so I returned to the wizarding world, and founded BFW with Seamus and Lavender. It seemed to make sense."

"BFW is now four years old," Malfoy mused, running a finger tip against the side of his wineglass. "Breaking even within its second year and now showing a healthy profit, as well as an excellent reputation for being pioneers and innovators in the field."

"Yes." Ginny saw no sense in false modesty, she was proud of the little company she had helped found, and talking business was relatively safe. It felt odd to be having any sort of conversation with this man, and she was weary about saying too much as his reputation for being a lethal businessman more than preceded him.

"But…" Malfoy's slight smile widened fractionally as he spoke, "you are haemorrhaging money over this newest campaign. Between the actual merchandise being based upon a Muggle counter-point, and thus of questionable popularity, expensive manufacturing, a campaign that might be overly ambitious with a star Quidditch player demanding an exorbitant fee, you need this to work."

"Yes." Though she again answered in the affirmative, the word sounded slightly strained from behind her suddenly clenched jaw. She continued, "but, it will work. There is a market for our commodities, and consumers want to see higher end Quidditch materials that stand apart from such items that are more cost-effective, but tend to not last."

"There is a good chance, however, that BFW has priced itself out of its consumer's range," he stated as he leaned back. The light dancing on his eyes causing them to glow while his lids falling to half mask the expressive orbs.

"We are at the high end, true." Ginny leaned forward as she got involved in the familiar debate that she and Lavender had been raging with Seamus for months. "But we think that these items will become something of a 'must-have'. We want to launch at this years World Championship, with a teaser campaign leading up to that, and then a special line right before Christmas."

"A good plan," Malfoy acknowledged with a slight bow of his head. Ginny's attention was briefly captured by the gleam of his pale hair, and how the softness seemed at odds with the man. "Have you looked at your competition, however?"

"What competition?" Ginny snorted derisively. "Quality Quidditch Supplies is near bankruptcy. They have not had an original idea in years, and their marketing team relies solely on their history. Consumers, especially youths, want what is new, and what is exciting. That is exactly what BFW is, and what we offer."

"We have been looking at bringing Quality Quidditch Supplies under the Malfoy banner for some time," Malfoy spoke softly, carefully watching the pale delicate female face from under his lashes. "We feel that they may have potential if we bring in the right management team."

"I see," Ginny clenched her armrests tightly enough to leave marks with her nails. "What has been decided?"

He appeared thoughtful for a long moment, before he continued, "nothing has been decided. Not yet."

"Why are you doing this?" Ginny could not hold it in any longer, she had to know why the man seated across from her seemed to want to destroy her company so badly.

"Why do I need a reason?" Countering, he selected another pastry biting into it with sharp teeth that shone. "This is business. As you so eloquently stated, there is a need for more competition within this market in the wizarding world. We need only to look to the Muggles to see how much profit can be gained."

"Oh, so then it is all about profit with you," she spat, again looking away.

"And that is not the case with you?" he enquired softly, no emotion in his tone. "You get out of bed each morning to go and market merchandise for the greater good? You give no thought to the bottom line, to your profit margins?"

"You twist my words!" Ginny forced herself by sheer force of will to calm down. It was letting him win to get this angry. Damn Weasley temper.

"No," he responded in the negative, "if I had truly wanted to twist words, I would have spoken about how instead you get out of my bed in the morning, fully sated, pleasurable pain settling in your loins, lips swollen, and yet still reaching out to me for more."

Ginny paused with her almost empty wineglass halfway to her parted lips. Their eyes caught and held, and she found herself nervously licking her dry lips in a move that had Malfoy's eyes darkening and following the slick glide of her tongue. "That will never happen."

"Will it not?" he mused softly, his eyes wandering back up to meet her own. A slight, darkly sensual, smile curved his lips, as he continued, "we shall see."

That effectively ended conversation, and Ginny sat tense in the silence that expanded between them. Malfoy, damn his eyes, seemed to be perfectly at ease, and his gaze caressed her face continuously even while she sought to avoid him.

Excusing herself for the water closet, Ginny made her way out to the silent hallway, and leaned against the wall with a gasp of relief. Collecting herself, she walked the few steps necessary to use the facilities. The chic cool of the room was again almost overwhelming, and she hurried, lingering only when the large mirror caught her eye. 

Ginny leaned her forehead against the cool surface, drawing in long gasps of air, feeling as if she were drowning. Her eyes, normally a soft, light brown, looked huge and dark against her pale pinched face. Concentrating solely on relaxing her muscles, she felt a little better, a little more like herself.

Pinching her cheeks for some colour, Ginny stared at herself. It was not like her to get so… lost… over a man. Even over a man as vile as Draco Malfoy. She barely recognized herself.

Not putting it past her dinner companion to come and fetch her if he felt that she had been gone for too long, she made her way back to the private dining room. Malfoy stood as she entered, and she moved quickly to her seat, determined that he not touch or help her this time.

His eyes darkened, and that feral smile found its way back to his lips as he watched her hurried movements. Ginny seethed as she realized that he knew he made her nervous. 

At that moment, a small chime was heard, and Ginny moved her hands away from the table as the soup course appeared in front of her. It looked wonderful, and she knew that it was probably perfect in every sense of the word, but she could not quite make herself take a bite.

Malfoy raised a silver eyebrow at her, before softly enquiring, "is this not to your taste? I can request something more desirable. Or, perhaps you would rather skip supper altogether…"

Ginny swiftly dragged her spoon through the pale liquid, swallowing decisively while trying to ignore Malfoy's low laughter.

They spoke little, the blond villain seemingly content to simply watch her from beneath hooded lids, until again the silence seemed to press in on Ginny.

"So…" she cast wildly around for a topic as she picked at a walnut in the small salad that had appeared in front of her. "What have you been doing since Hogwarts?"

A slow smirk appeared on Malfoy's pale face at the sound of her voice. "Business."

"And women?" She arched a red gold eyebrow at him.

The smirk widened, as he drawled, "would that be jealousy in your tone?"

"Hardly." Ginny ignored the sound of his low chuckle before stating, "you have quite the reputation."

"Do I?" He looked completely indifferent to that piece of information, choosing instead to fork up some of his own salad. "What have you been 'doing' since Hogwarts, Ginevra?"

"Do not call me that," Ginny's voice turned slightly dangerous, "I do not answer to that name from you.

Malfoy looked at her, his concentration making her shift uneasily in her chair, before asking innocently, "is that not your name?"

"My name is Ginny," she countered, ignoring again the sound of his low drawl.

"Ah, you wish for me to call you that?" Again, his lips quirked, and Ginny bristled at the thought that he might have been laughing at her.

"Yes, I do," she answered emphatically, reaching for another therapeutic sip of her wine. "Ginny is my name, and that is what I will answer to."

"Ah, then we would also be in agreement that my name is Draco, and not Malfoy?" Ginny glared at him, unwilling to use such a familiar way to address him. 

Running his fingers in a lingering way that she was sure was not accidental over his glass, he drew it to his mouth. Ginny's eyes followed the movement reluctantly, lingering on his lips long enough for them to curve into another slow smile.

Ginny clenched her teeth. "Agreed."

"So, _Draco_, what exactly was your role during the war?" Ginny smiled somewhat smugly as she took another bite of the crisp greens.

"Why do you ask?"

"Do you always answer a question with a question?"

Draco smiled the feral smile that Ginny was starting to become accustomed to, though it still unnerved her. "I had many roles during the war."

"Specifically…" She gave him a questioning look.

"Specifically, I don't believe that this is any of your concern," he said as he watched her over the rim of his wine glass, his face giving away nothing of what he was thinking. Ginny pushed her anger away, determined to give as good as she got.

Amid the silence, a succulent chicken roast in a reduced balsamic sauce appeared on her plate over rice. Ginny speared the tender flesh with her fork, playing with her food in a manner that would have had her mother smacking her hand in horror. 

"Why have you asked me here?"

A pale eyebrow quirked in response to her question, and Ginny watched him with fascination. "I was under the impression that we had already gone over this."

Ginny coloured, not remembering that she had indeed already made that exact comment earlier in the evening. Draco's lips curved in a small smirk, and he continued, "I want you, Ginny. I want to rip that shabby dress off of you, and to taste all of that delightful skin as its revealed. I want to sink into you, watching your lovely lips open on a gasp, and hear you scream my name."

Closing her mouth with an audible snap, Ginny stared at her dinner companion as he held her gaze for a long moment before he drew his linen napkin to his lips to daub at a drop of wine. 

"Are you always that blunt?"

"I am when I feel there is a need." 

"I'm not willing to prostitute myself for the good of my company," Ginny spoke tightly, picking her clutch off the table and standing in jerking motions.

Once again, Draco startled her by silently moving to her side almost before she even realized what he was doing. "Prostitute yourself?"

Ginny jumped as his breath whispered across the skin of her neck, and turned to face him, even as he enclosed her within a cage of his lean arms, bracing himself against the table behind her. 

"Yes, that is exactly what you are asking of me." Ginny stared up at his fallen angel face defiantly as she spoke.

Ignoring her comment, Draco reached up to tuck a stray crimson curl behind her ear, his fingers moving gently across her cheekbone. Ginny struggled to contain a shiver from his all too perceptive eyes but from the smile that crossed his face, she wasn't fooling anyone. 

His hand fell to her waist, obstructed though it were by the voluminous folds of her dress, and held tightly to the curve there. Ginny stared up at him, feeling somewhat lost in the silver of his eyes, desire glinting there for her to see. 

Draco moved his other hand to her hip, and slowly pulled her forward to press against his long body. Ginny shivered as she felt the hard evidence of just how much he wanted her press against her stomach, and he smirked down at her.

"You feel nothing…? he questioned in a low drawl, before tipping his head down to capture her lips. Ginny stood as still as stone as his lips moved gently, yet insistently, across hers. 

This remained to be a good plan, until Draco slowly drew his tongue across her full lower lip, and she gasped inadvertently allowing him entrance. Ginny closed her eyes as she felt herself falling into him. 

Feeling Ginny soften, Draco deepened the kiss, pulling her firmly against him, using both hands to cup the back of her head holding her in place as he shifted his lips. 

Against her will, Ginny felt herself responding. As if by magic, her hands reached up to grasp his shirt front, and her tongue seemed to find its way into his mouth, loving the taste of him and the wine that he had been drinking. 

Slowly easing back, Draco looked down at the flame-haired vixen in his arms. Ginny raised her lids slowly, feeling as if she were drowning. Her eyes caught sight of her fingers tangled in the black silk of his shirt, the warmth of his skin temptingly close below the thin material. 

Turning a shade of red that clashed horribly with her hair, she shook her fingers free, instinctively smoothing the fabric across his chest, trying to get rid of the wrinkles that she had made there.

With a low growl, Draco grabbed her hands, trapping them between their bodies. Ginny finally looked up at him, her eyes widening as she took in the look on his face.

If she had thought that the hunger tiger look was nerve-wracking, it was nothing compared to how he watched her now. His lips were slick, and slightly swollen, and there was a slight sheen of colour across his high cheekbones. 

Watching her with hooded eyes, Draco leaned down to brush his lips against hers, before setting her back from him. 

"Why do you want me?" Ginny blurted out before she could really think about what she was asking. Containing her embarrassment, she watched him closely. He was incredibly hard to read, seeming to show no emotions beyond dark amusement and desire.

He stared at her considering for a long moment, long enough that she thought he might not answer, before speaking in a low drawl, "because I shouldn't."

Ginny stared at him in confusion, before stepping around him and heading for the door.

A/N: Thank you for all of the positive response to this story! I tried to personally thank everyone who left a signed review. If you don't leave a signed review, I can't do much, except to thank you here. I'm going to try to update this story about once a week, so look back around next Wednesday!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Ginny rubbed her hand across her eyes, trying to force herself to wake up. After arriving home late the night before, sleep had been a very long time in coming for her, and it felt like it was going to take a lot of effort to leave the comfortable cocoon of her bed for the office.

Confused, angry, frustrated, and, Merlin help her, turned on, she had stormed into her flat the previous evening, and flung her clutch onto the large couch. Ice cream had seemed like the best solution, and she had fully indulged herself.

She had been three quarters of the way into a large tub of triple chocolate fudge when she finally felt the healing qualities of sugar.

Draco Malfoy completely infuriated her. He had pushed himself into her life in the worst possible way, and now seemed intent on destroying it. She just couldn't believe the entire motive behind this was lust.

Ginny scowled around her spoon as she thought back on the dinner she had recently departed. It had taken a lot to walk away from him she had to admit, too much, if she were entirely truthful.

It was distinctly unfair that Draco Malfoy possessed such charisma, such a presence. Savagely, Ginny stuck the spoon back into the ice cream, scooping up another large helping.

Holding the container to her chest protectively, Ginny made her way to her bedroom, intent on stripping off the now offending dress that had done nothing to dissuade the tall blond earlier in the evening. That kiss… she firmly pushed all thoughts of that particular event to one side. It was entirely too soon to be thinking about that.

Pulling on a loose t-shirt, and a pair of pajama bottoms that were red with glittery snitches, Ginny prowled around her flat eating her frozen treat, and muttering to herself about the former Slytherin.

Finally, she relinquished her hold on the ice cream, and started to think about bed. The trouble was, was that she was now keyed up from anger, lust, and sugar. She settled into her bed with the sappy romance novel, but threw it across the room when the lead male acted completely chauvinistic, and the heroine swooned.

Fiction was not always better than reality, it seemed.

Rolling herself into a tight ball under her comfy covers the morning after, Ginny closed her eyes resolutely, determined to have just a little bit more sleep before she would be missed at BFW.

It was actually shaping up to be a pretty good day she decided a few hours later, despite her mood. Seamus, Lavender and she had met and gone over the new offer from Malfoy Enterprises and it had been voted down again.

Of course, she had mentioned nothing about her meetings with the head of that company, or anything of what had been discussed.

Smiling at thwarting Malfoy in that small way of declining the offer, Ginny straightened her hair before going to Floo Hannah Abbott about the pricing for _The Prophet_.

There was no way that Malfoy would allow something as petty as lust get in the way of business.

"Hi Hannah!" Ginny grinned at her former schoolmate as Hannah made her way around her desk to the fireplace.

"Ginny!" Hannah knelt down to speak to her, "I haven't spoken to you in awhile, how are things on your end?"

"Fine, fine," Ginny smiled at the familiar sight of Hannah's big, trusting blue eyes. "I actually wanted to talk to you about the proposal for BFW's new advertising campaign. The rates seemed to have gone up since last time… is there any way around that?"

Immediately, Hannah looked ill-at-ease, "I'm sorry Ginny… I have actually been told to rescind that altogether. I was going to owl you later today."

"Oh," Ginny watched her carefully, "why would that be? BFW has always had a good relationship with _The Prophet_."

"Orders from above," Hannah twisted her hands together, looking decidedly harassed, "I'm not sure why."

"I see," Ginny responded coolly.

"Look, I'm sorry Ginny. If it was up to me…" Hannah let the sentence hang in the air between them.

"Don't worry, Hannah, I'm sure we'll work something out."

Ginny signed off the Floo call, feeling anger take hold. This was his doing, she was sure of it.

Subsequent Floos to her contacts at the other media outlets confirmed this. She was greeted in the same uneasy manner each time, and they all staunchly refused to do any business with her.

It appeared that Malfoy _would_ let something as petty as lust get in the way of business. She couldn't even imagine what to tell Lavender and Seamus.

Sitting at her desk, contemplating a future of moving to America and opening up a beauty parlour, Ginny tried not to think about the imminent demise of her company. It was just too pathetic.

Her assistant, Maeve, hesitantly stuck her head around the door to Ginny's office at that moment, a still rolled piece of parchment in her hand.

"Ginny? An owl just came from you from _The Prophet_." Ginny leaped at this information, grabbing the letter with a smile of thanks for her hard-working employee.

Sitting down, Ginny smiled at the thought that perhaps this was an offer for the advertising campaign, that they had reconsidered, that maybe all hope was not yet lost.

Instead of an official offer from the advertising department, however, it was from a reporter wanting a statement on reports that she was romantically involved with Draco Malfoy. These reports were going to be published in the Saturday edition of _The Prophet_, whether she issued a statement or not.

Ginny was not amused.

--

Draco poured over the financial reports for one of Malfoy Enterprises' subsidiaries located in Paris, making notes in his almost illegible scrawl at points for his secretary to look into.

He ran his hand through his hair, wondering absentmindedly where the leather thong that he used to tie the mass off of his face had gone.

The company, which helped to manufacture school uniforms, including those used at Hogwarts, had been showing a steady decline in profit for the last few years, until it had reached the point where it had been brought to his personal attention.

Furrowing his brows briefly before he rubbed at his forehead with long fingers and finally pulled a slim case from the drawer of his desk. He extracted elegant rectangular shaped spectacles, and pushed them up his nose.

Draco looked over the numbers again, feeling a degree of relief from the ache in his eyes. For some reason, the company was doing business as usual, but the profit margin was getting smaller and smaller. Now, the company was barely breaking even.

An interoffice memo appeared in his private inbox with a low '_ping_' sound, and Draco looked over, somewhat irritated at the distraction. Only his personal assistant had access to that box, and she was under strict instructions about what should, and should not be sent through.

Reaching over, he unrolled the parchment, skimming over it quickly. It appeared that Ginny had responded to _The Prophet_'s request for a statement concerning the rumour that he had helped create.

Pale eyebrows rising at the language that the petite redhead was clearly capable of, Draco threw back his head and laughed.

She was proving to be even more amusing than he had remembered.

--

Ginny threw back the shot and reached for the next one, ignoring her girlfriends' looks of disbelief.

"Ginny?" Hermione Granger leaned forward to place a hand on Ginny forearm where it rested beside her on the table, "is everything alright?"

"Peachy," Ginny grabbed Hermione's neglected martini, and took a long gulp of the clear liquid.

Daphne Greengrass watched with interest as she sipped her own drink, a bottle of butterbeer, which was starting to seem downright puritan compared with the amount of alcohol Ginny was imbibing. "You should tell us what's wrong. Talking to us doesn't give you a hangover the next day."

Hermione had been her best girlfriend since halfway through Hogwarts, when they had finally decided that it was within their best interests to band together against the overwhelming amount of testosterone that they were surrounded with at the Burrow.

Because of her house at Hogwarts, Slytherin, Daphne had not known Ginny beyond the fact that she was the sole female Weasley child. Ginny, had simply known the tall black-haired girl by sight from mealtimes.

Hermione and Ginny had actually met Daphne at the Leaky Cauldron a few years after leaving Hogwarts during the broadcast of a crucial Quidditch match, and had instantly bonded over mutual interests, and a similar sense of humour.

Ginny looked over at her two best girlfriends, and sighed. They had been having Friday night as girl's nights out for the past few years, and normally she looked forward to an evening of dinner, drinks, and gossip. Tonight though, she simply had too much on her mind.

"Draco bloody Malfoy," Ginny answered, looking around the bar to make sure no one important was listening in upon their conversation.

"Malfoy?" Hermione blinked, clearly not expecting that answer, and repeated herself just to be sure, "Malfoy?"

"Malfoy," was the response in a voice filled with something that could be termed hatred.

"Why? What has he done? I didn't know that you two even had contact. Gosh, I haven't seen him in years," Hermione mused to herself, not particularly sorry for that fact.

"Merlin, I wish. You don't even want to know what he's done," Ginny looked at Daphne's butterbeer, trying to estimate just how much alcohol the drink contained. She snorted, knowing that it was little better than water.

Noticing the furtive glances at her drink, Daphne clutched the bottle to herself protectively and signaled the bartender for another round, "what's Draco done?"

Pausing to take another shot, Ginny watched her friend with narrowed caramel eyes, "wait a minute… you know Malfoy! Tell me everything."

Looking slightly apprehensive at the crazed look in her friend's eyes, Daphne stalled, "what exactly do you want to know?"

"How to grind him like a bug, and then bury him."

Hermione watched Ginny, wondering where exactly all of this animosity was coming from. To the best of her knowledge, there had never been anything between her friend and the blond former Slytherin.

They had never even talked at Hogwarts. All of the interactions with Malfoy had been with her, Ron, and Harry. Ginny would not have even had any of the same classes, as she had been a year behind them.

"You're going to need to be more specific than that," Daphne answered Ginny with a light laugh, hoping to bring the conversation into slightly less frightening waters.

She glanced over at Hermione with a pleading look in her large green eyes, frowning when the bushy-haired girl shook her head in the negative.

They were interrupted momentarily as the bartender set their round down on the long polished bar in front of them, pausing to smile at the three attractive young women. He was ignored in favour of the conversation they were in the midst of.

"I want to know all of his weaknesses," Ginny started, her face shining at the prospect of bringing Malfoy to his knees, "I want to know what he fears. I want to know how to destroy him."

"Well," Daphne again glanced at Hermione, "we weren't the greatest of friends at school, and now I only see him at parties and a few functions."

"Parties? Functions?" Ginny perked up at this, "like what?"

"Well, he socializes in some of the same circles that I do, and he attends some Ministry functions that I do." Daphne worked for the department of International Relations, and often bemoaned the amount of events that her presence was expected at.

"I can't believe how little help you're being," Ginny ranted, slamming back the new shot that had been set in front of her, while steadying herself with her other hand on the bar. The room was starting to feel like it might have been spinning.

Throwing another uneasy look in Ginny's direction, Daphne attempted to gain Hermione's attention in a discussion about the latest 'Hogwarts: A History' that had hit shelves just a few weeks prior.

Under the ensuing debate about how the edition was just not as well researched as it's predecessor, Daphne and Hermione watched as Ginny starting swaying in place in her precarious perch on the barstool.

"Don't even get me started on their chapter on the war. It's so filled with rumours, that Rita Skeeter herself could have written that tripe," Daphne finished her tirade with an indignant sniff, as always irritated at just how maligned her former house was in the media.

"Exactly my point," Hermione agreed readily, "I sincerely wish that my name was not even in that book. The freedom of media rights have gotten out of hand in some ways. There are so many loopholes, that it is always difficult to tell truth from fiction, and there is absolutely no recourse."

Ginny ignored this new conversation entirely in favour of looking into the bottom of the now-empty shot glass. Wondering if it might be seen as tacky to try to lick any remaining alcohol out, she started glancing over at what her friends were drinking again.

Placing her new martini as far away from Ginny's grasping hands as possible, Hermione started doing a mental calculation of just how much her friend had had to drink. Too much.

"Ginny… do you want me to take you home?"

Daphne immediately chimed in her support of the idea, having noticed just how unsteady Ginny was becoming, just how out of the conversation and surroundings she really was.

Ginny looked at the two of them with disgust, before sliding off her barstool, "I need to use the loo."

She stuck her nose in the air, and stumbled away from the bar, cursing how much the drink had affected her balance without her knowledge.

Cursing, she managed to drop her wand a total of three times between the toilet and the sink. She then proceeded to splash water from the tap right down the front of her shirt while trying to wash her hands.

Exiting the room, still muttering about her bad luck, and the whole balance issue, Ginny looked around. Frowning as her eyes alighted on the tall blond that stood leaning against the wall in the small hallway, she clenched her hands into fists at her sides.

"What are you doing here? You need to leave now," she walked up to him, and pushed a finger into his shoulder.

Draco looked down at her with lightly hooded silver eyes and a slight smirk on his face, "have you been drinking?"

Pushing her finger into his shoulder again, hoping to leave a bruise, Ginny glowered up at him, "I don't believe that is any of your business. What are you doing here?"

"Because you're here," he replied honestly, grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers together. Ginny stared at their clasped hands for a moment, before attempting to jerk away. Draco ignored her, forcing her hand down to her side, and bringing his other hand up to cup her cheek.

"Because…" Ginny shook her head slightly, hoping desperately to clear the fog that had settled there, "have you been following me?"

"Not quite following," Draco moved closer so that his lips brushed against hers with every word, "more like keeping tabs on you."

"I don't think I like that," Ginny glared up at him, trying to ignore the sensation of his lips moving against hers, and the spicy smell of his cologne.

"Really," Draco was remarkably unimpressed, "why then do you shiver when I touch you?"

Ginny proceeded to do just that as he stroked a thumb across her cheekbone. He smirked in satisfaction, leaning into press his mouth to hers in a hard, but brief assault of her senses.

Sighing into his mouth, Ginny looked up at him in confusion as he pulled away.

"Why did you stop?"

Draco slowly smiled, his eyes watching her intently, "I want you to be in control of all of your faculties when I take you."

Ginny frowned, struggling to remember why being with him bothered her so much. Giving the thought up for lost she refocused on the tall blond in front of her. He stepped back, letting go of her to lean against the wall once more, folding his arms over his broad chest.

Hating the look of detached amusement on his face, Ginny launched herself at him, and barely had time to take in the astonishment that took the place of his customary smirk as she latched her mouth to his.

Clutching the collar of his oxford shirt tightly between her fingers tightly, Ginny moaned as she focused on thoroughly tasting the bane of her existence.

Draco's mouth remained slack under her own for no longer than an instant before his hand cupped the back of her head, spearing his fingers into her fiery tresses, and took over.

Ginny noticed, somewhere in the back of her head, that his other hand slid down to cup her bottom, pulling her in tightly against him as his mouth moved. She moaned as he caught her bottom lip, nipping at it lightly, driving her crazy.

Angling his head, he deepened the kiss to the point that Ginny believed she would never need oxygen again, and then he released her lips to move across her cheek, to find the side of her neck.

Tongue flicking against the crazily beating pulse point Draco found there, he moved his arm to wrap around her waist, pulling her up onto her toes to lean into him. Ginny gasped as the movement caused her stomach to rub against where he was hot, hard, and heavy, and he growled as he attacked her neck with a vengeance.

Trembling with need, not quite sure what was happening to her, Ginny's fingers worked their way into his hair, displacing the customary leather thong that held it off of his face, delighting in the softness that she found there. It felt like the softest fur…

Shifting, Draco turned to press Ginny up against the wall of the small hallway, placing his mouth on the curve where her graceful neck met shoulder, and he drew a patch of skin up between his teeth.

It was only when he tried to insert a muscled thigh between her legs that Ginny seemed to snap out of the pleasurable trance she had been under, and she pulled back from him, her head only being saved from hitting the wall by his fast reflexes moving his hand to the back of it.

They stared at each other for long moments, both breathing as though they had been in a race. Ginny took in how disheveled Draco was, and felt a momentary dart of shame, as well as pleasure that she had brought him to such a state.

He watched her intently, his eyes hungry silver orbs, his lips swollen and wet. Catching her eyes, he licked his lips slowly, "delicious."

Ginny shook her head, trying to ignore him, "that should not have happened."

His lips curled into a slow smile, and he leant down to whisper softly in her ear, "that should not have stopped."

As Ginny shivered at the tone of his voice, and his prolonged physical closeness, he stepped away, winking at her slightly before walking calmly out of the hallway.

She stood, her mouth gaping for what seemed to be forever, trembling with need, and anger, and frustration, hating the affect that the former Slytherin had on her senses, "why the hell does he always have to get the last word in?"

Ginny made her way back into the water closet, staring at her reflection stonily. She felt stone-cold sober now, and that brought everything that had just happened into stark reality. Her face flushed as she realized that she had been the one to kiss him this time.

Splashing cold water against her swollen lips, Ginny frowned at herself. He was the enemy. One did not go around snogging the enemy. It was just not done.

With that in mind, she held her head high, and made her way back to her somewhat neglected friends who were in the middle of their fourth drinks, and giggling over the bartender's arse.

Sitting down as normally serene Hermione waved a gold galleon at the now-harassed looking man, Ginny buried her head in her hands. She needed more to drink.

Saturday morning came too soon for Ginny, and she woke slowly with the taste of cotton in her mouth, "blegh."

"Good morning," a low voice murmured as a glass of water was set down on her bedside table, "late night?"

Ginny's eyes shot open at the unexpected visitor, and she turned to see Draco Malfoy settling himself beside her on the bed, propping himself up on a couple of pillows. He stretched his long legs out, crossing his ankles, and folding his arms behind his head.

"How did you get in here?" She whispered, unwilling to cause her head to split further than it felt like it already had.

"_Alohamora_," reaching an elegant hand down, he smoothed a few trailing curls away from her pale face. She jerked away from him in reaction, and Draco smirked down at her, "you really should be more careful. There are some shifty characters out there who might take advantage of the fact that you have very little in the way of security wards."

Gritting her teeth against the irony of that sentence, Ginny turned back over, and tried to believe that his presence was simply the result of a very bad dream. Moving, however proved painful, and she moaned pitifully as her poor head was jostled.

"You should drink the water," Malfoy suggested helpfully in an innocent drawl that Ginny did not trust a jot, "the alcohol has dehydrated your body."

She pulled one hand out from beneath her lovely warm comforter, and flashed him a somewhat obscene gesture with her index and middle fingers. His low chuckle was her response, and that was just not that rewarding.

Sighing, Ginny pulled herself up into a sitting position, careful to keep her distance from the large male who had taken up residence on her bed, and reached for the water, "you didn't poison it, did you?"

She didn't even need to turn to see his expression of dark amusement at her comment. He answered her with a blithe, "I want to fuck you, not kill you."

Nodding, she gulped down the water, collapsing against her headboard as she reached the bottom of the glass. She looked up at him, sitting there as if this was nothing more than a board meeting for him, despite the fact that he was lounging on her bed.

She was suddenly aware that her hair was in a tangled mess around her shoulders, with no makeup, morning breath, and the large t-shirt that she slept in. Ginny frowned to herself as she realized that she was actually worrying about what he thought of her, and sought to bring her mind back to the immediate concern of his intruder-like tendencies.

"What are you doing here?"

"You have a very limited amount of questions," Draco mused, "why do you never ask me about what I have on under my denims?"

"I don't particularly care what you're wearing," Ginny struggled to stop herself from eyeing him in speculation. She was unsuccessful if his slow smile was any indication.

"I'm thinking about what you're wearing under that shirt," he shared with her as he raked smoldering eyes up and down the parts of her that he could see.

Ginny scowled up at him, and dragged the thick comforter up to her shoulders while ignoring his low laughter.

"That doesn't do anything to hide your delectable body from me," Draco spoke quietly, his eyes intent on hers, a smile lingering in the corners of his lips, "I can still see that thin white shirt that barely conceals your hard pink nipples."

Reaching up a trembling hand to rake her curls out of her eyes, Ginny tried to avoid his silvery eyes. His attention was caught on her hair, and he reached out a hand to run his fingers through the blazing tresses, fingering the curls that he had never seen before through the straightening charms that she generally used.

Seeing her like this, was like seeing her without a mask, and he found that he liked it.

"Stop talking to me like that," she gritted her teeth, "and get the fuck out of my flat."

"This, after I got you water, and played nursemaid?" Draco looked scandalized, and Ginny scowled at the laughter that danced in his eyes.

"I did not invite you into my personal space, and I do not want you here," Ginny continued, gaining momentum as she realized how the breach of her privacy infuriated her, "you need to leave now, and I do not want to ever see you again."

In response, Draco gently tugged on a lock of hair, before bringing his arm back to fold behind his head, "Do you not?"

"No," she was adamant on that point, despite the fact that her eyes kept trying to wander over the lean length of his body.

A long finger hooked under her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his, and he smiled slowly, "I meant what I said, Ginny. I want you. The two things that are keeping you out of my bed right at this moment are your stubbornness and my patience, and it is really a matter of which one breaks first."

"What about my campaign?" She asked, unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze.

His lids fell to half-mast, "nothing has changed. You know my terms. I will wait for you to come to me."

Draco leaned forward to kiss her, stroking his tongue across her bottom lip briefly, before letting her go, and angling himself off of her bed in a fluid movement.

Ginny was still staring at the door to her bedroom as she heard the front door open, and then close quietly behind him.

A/N: Hi all!! Thank you so much for reading and review… yay!!!! I hope you're enjoying this story. Please let me know what you think… this is going to be a long story, I have the plot already done in my head…  Enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Spending her entire weekend at work, Ginny fully appreciated how much rested on the shoulders of the campaign for the new line. 

Two years of Seamus' work developing the line, Lavender's reputation as she had already announced the line to their customers, and the extra staff that they had hired for manufacturing and marketing. All of this would come to naught if she was unable to market it properly. They may as well just hand out the merchandise for free.

Word of mouth was always a good way to get noticed, but the wizarding population relied on their media for the latest information. They were also increasingly in competition with the Muggles, as Muggleborns were more and more likely to shop outside of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade.

In other words, Ginny felt completely adrift. There was no way this campaign would get off the ground if Draco Malfoy stood in their way. That had now been proven beyond a doubt.

It was February now, but the World Championship was the following summer, and they had wanted to introduce the line in time for that huge Quidditch event, as she had told Malfoy herself. It was a good plan, but it needed to be well-executed as there would be so many other novelty products for sale at that time.

Ginny ran her fingers through her hair, picking out the tangles that she encountered, before pulling it back into a loose bun at the back of her head. The office was empty, as it was most weekends, and she revelled in the unusual silence that not even _Silencio_ could achieve on a weekday.

It was also nice to be able to wear her jeans and a jumper to work, instead of her usual suit. It felt very liberating, and Ginny stretched in her chair trying to work the kinks out of her neck.

Deciding to ignore the pressing issue of the media coverage, Ginny looked over the finished prints of Oliver Wood in various settings and poses wearing BFW Quidditch Sweaters. They had turned out better than even she could have expected.

The famous Keeper was incredibly good looking, and it showed well in print. She frowned as she remembered just how much a contract with him ensuring his endorsement had caused, but then decided it had been well worth it. He was now looked into a non-compete agreement with BFW for the next three years, with an option to renew for another five after that.

She traced the BFW logo on each picture with one finger, loving the look of the elegant black logo that would soon become the must-have for wizards and witches. It was ambitious, but entirely doable. She, Seamus, and Lavender had made sure of that.

And it would not do to have Draco Malfoy stand in their way.

She ate her lunch at her desk, browsing through the pages of paperwork that lined her inbox, Ginny's eyebrows rose as a copy of _The Prophet_ met her fingers. 

"Why would Maeve put that there," she murmured to herself at the unusual addition to the polished wooden case. 

Spotting a note from her assistant telling her to turn to page fourteen attached to the front of the paper, Ginny turned the pages with interest, and then promptly dropped the thing when her own face peered out at her.

Shock raced through her as she grabbed the paper back up, and spread it out on her desk to take a closer look. 

The image of her was a promo picture that she recognized for BFW from a few years prior, standing next to Lavender and Seamus. This was beside a picture of Malfoy, obviously taken at some party, in dress robes with a beautiful blonde on his arm.

The entire article was about speculation around Ginny and Draco's supposed "passionate love affair." Ginny gritted her teeth as she read. 

Expressions such as 'Romeo and Juliet', 'forbidden desire', and 'illicit love' were bandied around the article in a way that set Ginny's teeth to grinding.

The reporter also mentioned that Draco Malfoy had refused to comment, as was his custom, through his press agent. Ginny Weasley's response was that of an adult nature, though she had vehemently denied any reports that the two were together, according to the article.

Crumpling the paper up into a tight wad was satisfying. Throwing it in the trash even more so.

Ginny closed her eyes, and prayed to every god and goddess she could think of that her parents had not bought Saturday's _Prophet_. Or her brothers. Or Harry. 

Why hadn't she taken the request for a statement on Friday more seriously? She could have already begun damage control. Instead, she had been at the mercy of her anger and hormones.

She could just imagine Draco reading the article. Hell, the cocky bastard had probably planted it. Her eyes narrowed on that thought. 

Ginny grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and her quill, and put together a scathing and to-the-point missive to be sent to Malfoy.

"Hermes," Ginny called softly, looking outside the window where one of BFW's owls lived, "Hermes!"

The sleek, medium sized brown owl floated to the owl stand in the corner of her office, giving her a look of disdain for disrupting his rest.

She tied the parchment to his leg, "I need you to take this to Draco Malfoy, wherever he is. Now. Do not wait for a reply."

Hermes seemed to look down his nose at her, before he flew sharply out the window.

"Bloody temperamental bird," Ginny groused to herself as she sat back down at her desk, determined to get a few more hours of work in before she was due at the Burrow for the weekly family dinner.

It was after six before she finally made her way from the Apparition point beside the garden gate to the back door of the large house.

Breathing in the familiar smells that wafted through the cold crisp air, Ginny smiled as she entered the kitchen to see Percy's two little boys sitting at the table there, as Molly stirred something on the stove. Something that smelled wonderful. It felt as though she were five years old again.

"Auntie Ginny!" Michael and Matthew both made a grab for her legs as she walked in; their heads level with her thighs. Ginny laughed, and leaned back on the door for balance as she leaned down to give them both big hugs. 

Wiping ineffectually at sticky little boy handprints on her pants legs, she then reached over to give her mum a hug.

"Alright there, mum?" she asked brightly, already looking around to see who else had arrived.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley," the red haired matriarch had perfected her terrifying 'you're in trouble' tone to the point where even her eldest sons cowered, "you are going to sit down, and tell me what is going on with this nonsense in _The Daily Prophet_."

Ginny sighed as she was enveloped in a quick hug, before pushed to a wooden chair. Both of her nephews had left for the front of the house at their Grandmum's tone, determined not to be blamed for whatever had gone wrong.

"So… how has your week been?" Ginny asked brightly, trying in vain to distract her far-too-perceptive mother.

"Do not give me that," Molly Weasley sat down opposite, and gave her only daughter a good glare. "Imagine my surprise when Sheryl Bones pops over for a cuppa yesterday, and casually asks about my daughter's relationship with Draco Malfoy!"

"Yes, I can imagine that would be quite shocking," Ginny agreed in what she hoped was a commiserating tone.

"Oh, you do?" Molly snarled at her. "You are not going to leave that chair until you tell me everything. And no pudding until I am satisfied either!"

Ginny's shoulders drooped. She took a deep breath, and proceeded to lay her arse off to her mother. "Mum, you know how the papers can be. Malfoy Enterprises has been trying to acquire BFW for a few months now, and I took a dinner with Malfoy himself at _The Truffle_ to try and sort it out. The press got wind of it, and suddenly we're shagging on every horizontal surface."

"I don't believe you," Molly informed her archly.

"Well, it is the truth. Did you notice how they didn't even have a picture of us together? For Merlin's sake, the picture of Malfoy was of him with a blonde. I am clearly not even his type." Ginny congratulated herself for picking that little titbit out of the recesses of her arse, before she started wondering why she had remembered that detail when she had thought she only glanced at the picture momentarily.

Molly was still looking at her sceptically.

"Mum, remember what Harry and Hermione went through with Rita Skeeter? These reporters will do anything for a story," Ginny continued, trying to keep calm, and keep her eyes focused on her mum. It was all in the eyes.

That seemed to do it, Molly cracked slightly. "Well, I just don't like having updates on your love life through the paper. Perhaps if you had a fellow, you wouldn't fuel these kinds of rumours."

Ginny rolled her eyes at the sound of the familiar reprimand. "Mum, I'm perfectly happy by myself. I'm only twenty five, and I work too much to have much in the way of a boyfriend right now."

"Almost twenty six, dear," her mother reminded her helpfully, "and you would be so much happier if you had some chap to go home to at the end of the day."

Pushing the side of herself that agreed with that comment to the back of her mind, Ginny stood. "I'm going to go and say hi to dad, right? When will dinner be ready?"

"About an hour, dear," as she answered Molly jumped up to check on her casserole, swirled her wand at the oven timer.

Saying hello to various brothers and their wives as she made her way through the sprawling house, she finally found her father in his workshop at the other end of the house.

He was bent over the table with various wires and parts laid out in a diagram in front of him. Ginny took a moment just to contemplate the top of his head, noting the few grey hairs that seemed to have snuck in without her notice. It was hard realizing her parents were getting older, that they might not always be there as they always had been.

Shaking herself out of the gloomy thoughts, she called to Arthur, "hi daddy."

"Hello princess," he responded with a grin creasing his face as he looked up. Standing, he held his arms out for a hug from his youngest child.

Ginny hugged him tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of leather, cigars, and motor oil.

"What are you working on?" she asked lightly, looking down at the table and trying to piece together in her mind what all of these parts were.

"Oh, it is the most incredible thing, Ginny," Arthur answered excitedly. He held up a muggle picture for her to look at. "Harry brought me a muggle CD player. I've been looking it over for days now… incredible. Muggles are remarkable, really, despite their obvious limitations."

Ginny frowned as she looked at the picture, and then down at the pieces strewn across the wooden surface. She didn't completely know what she was looking at, but he seemed happy enough.

"That's great, daddy. You're going to have to show me how it works, and what it does when you put it back together."

"Of course! Of course!" he replied, already moving back to a few wires that had caught his interest. "Let me know when supper is on the table, right princess?"

Ginny smiled and moved back out of the room, coming face to face with Harry in the narrow hallway. 

"Harry!" He smiled as she hugged him tightly, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Hey Gin," his smile widened, "what was all this Ron was pissing about with you and Malfoy?""

"Oh," she wrinkled her nose, "absolutely nothing. You know how the media is sometimes, they would try to bring Voldemort back for a story.

Laughing, he caught her around the neck with the crook of his arm, and dragged her along to the living room where Hermione and Dean had just arrived with their daughter, Ella.

Amid the greetings, Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm in a vicelike grip. "What was all this I read about you and Malfoy?"

"Later," Ginny hissed at her, smiling at Dean and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Dean and Hermione had been together for about five years, but despite the birth of Ella almost two years prior, had not seen it necessary to wed. They both insisted they were happy with what they had to Molly who took it upon herself to ask every few weeks when they managed to make it to the Weasley Sunday night dinner.

Ella toddled over to Ginny, her chubby arms outstretched, "up!"

Ginny grinned at her goddaughter's demand, and swiftly pulled her into the air in a move that had Hermione gasping, and then scolding her friend, even as her daughter screeched in delight.

Dean laughed, kissing Hermione to district her, and pulled her away to say hello to Ron with a grinning Harry following closely behind them.

Ginny settled the little girl on her hip, grinning at her, and speaking softly, "hi muffin. Have you had a good week?"

Sitting on the couch as Ella told her all about her new shiny purple shoes that her daddy had gotten her, and about her playgroup and swimming lessons, Ginny kept her attention focused on the miniature Hermione.

Only the hint of mocha in Ella's skin tone spoke of Dean, and Ginny again wondered how they had gotten to this point, where one of her best childhood friends had a toddler, and was madly in love.

Ella was now intent on pulling on her pink socks, and reciting the alphabet as Ginny nodded, her expression serious so as not to offend the two year old squirming on her lap.

Smoothing the little girl's unruly hair back from her brow, Ginny kissed the satiny smooth skin that she found there.

"Are you going to come watch me swim Auntie Ginny?" Ella spoke seriously, her dark eyes intent on Ginny's much lighter ones.

"I will definitely try. It sounds like you're having a lot of fun!"

"Mummy gets worried when I jump from the board, but daddy laughs and throws her in the water at home," Ella told her cheerfully. Ginny laughed at how Dean and Hermione's relationship worked.

Dean was so incredibly easy going, he always had been, even during his and Ginny's ill-fated relationship at Hogwarts. He proved to be a good foil for the ever-worrying Hermione. It seemed that their daughter was starting to pick up on that particular point of her parent's relationship.

Ginny thought wistfully how she sometimes wished that she had that. That easy way of being with another person, of talking and laughter, and knowing that that they were always there for her.

Instead, she had Draco blooding Malfoy making threats to shag her silly. Life was not always fair.

The rest of the evening passed comfortably, with Ginny somehow being talked into babysitting Ella on the following Saturday by an innocently smiling Dean, while Hermione rolled her eyes.

The conversation only once more turned to the piece in _The Prophet_, and they all agreed that reporters should be taken out and _AK_'d for inaccuracy of pieces surrounding a witch or wizard's private life.

It was when coffee and tea was being drunk back in the living room, that Ginny sat down beside her eldest brother.

"How's the new campaign, Gin?" Bill asked with interest, knowing from his ties with Gringotts just how much was riding on this. Ginny frowned briefly, unwilling to even think about her current predicament, and instead focused on a smaller, yet equally terrifying concern.

"Not bad," she stalled, looking down at her clasped hands for a brief moment, "but I was actually wondering how much you knew about residential security wards."

Draco's appearance in her apartment the previous day had been cause for concern, and it made Ginny uneasy to think that he may have been there other times without her notice.

Bill watched her shrewdly, picking up on Ginny's mood. "Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity, mainly. I have nothing on my flat right now, and some people at work were telling me about a spat of break-ins over the past couple of weeks in Hogsmeade."

"Oh really?" Bill arched a red eyebrow. "I haven't heard anything about that, though, all places of residence should have something in terms of wards. I can't believe you've been living there that long, and are just now asking about it."

"Not the top of my list of priorities, right?" Ginny sighed. She was getting his protective brother senses to flare up, and that was really the last thing she wanted. She liked her privacy and independence, and her brothers simply overrode her wishes if they felt she was in any kind of danger.

"Listen, I'll come by tomorrow after work to set them up for you," he continued, still watching her carefully.

"Lovely."

"What are you setting up for Ginny, Bill?" Fleur settled herself on his other side, smiling at her sister-in-law.

"Security wards. She's been living in that flat without them for years," Bill grumbled, still unable to get over this fact.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's nothing, Fleur. How are you doing? Are you looking forward to the baby?"

"_Oui_. Very much so." Though the blonde's English had improved since she had first set foot in Hogwarts a decade prior, she still occasionally lapsed into her native tongue, and it softened the edges of her words.

Bill smiled at the thought of his first child, and wrapped a careful arm around his wife. "It's a girl, you know."

"Really?" Ginny grinned. This would be the first female grandchild. Molly would be over the moon.

"Yeah, you won't have the distinction of being the only female Weasley child anymore," George teased hearing the end of the conversation as he sat down with the small group.

Ginny laughed, and reached over to punch him gently in the arm. "I will have you know, that that is a very great distinction, and that acts of greatness are always done through the female line."

Harry turned his head to her, with a mocking tilt, amusement dancing across his features as she quickly amended her sentence, "except for you Harry, and that whole war thing. You're not a girl."

Fleur giggled, and leaned over to pat Ginny's hand amid the general laughter of the statement. "I hope she will be like her aunt."

"Well," Ginny grinned and looked around at her brothers scattered throughout the room, "she had better be. If she ends up like one of her uncles, there will be no stopping them."

Apparating home later that evening with a full week's worth of leftovers courtesy of her mother, Ginny shoved the whole lot into her icebox, and went to finish up her paperwork, keeping an eye out for an owl back from the head of Malfoy Enterprises.

The night rolled by with nothing from the blond, and Ginny frowned as she changed into her nightclothes, determined to get a full night's sleep and that the next day couldn't possibly be as stressful as this one.

Ginny was sitting at her desk, going through the paperwork from the previous week from her administrative team, a large cup of coffee at her elbow, when a sleek black owl made its appearance in her office.

Dropping a letter with a precise flick of one strong leg, the owl turned, and settled itself onto the perch in the corner, obviously under instructions to wait for a response.

Ginny stared at the heavy cream envelope for a long moment, before she picked it up, and ran a nail under the seal that had been stamped with an ornate DM on the back.

She sucked in a breath as she read the letter that had been written in a heavy, elegantly scrawling script in black.

_My office at two o'clock. _

_DM._

Well, that was certainly to the point, and gave her no reaction to the harshly worded letter she'd sent him the previous day. Ginny scowled, and scribbled something in the affirmative, before throwing the letter back at the owl, who left with an offended look on his almost inscrutable features.

Checking the time, she realized that it was verging on one thirty already, and she rushed to eat the sandwich and juice that Maeve had left for her on the edge of her desk with a cooling charm almost an hour earlier.

Taking a last look in the mirror in her office, Ginny smoothed the tailored black suit over her figure, straightening the collar of her white blouse beneath it. A harsh look for her, but it was needed in this case.

She apparated to the front lobby of Malfoy Enterprises, and was shown to Draco's office at precisely two o'clock.

This time, she was not left alone in the large space.

Draco Malfoy himself was seated behind the magnificent desk, sprawled languidly in his chair as if he had not a care in the world. Several piles of paperwork littered the desk in front of him, and a pair of spectacles rested on the top beside a mug of tea and a bottle of water.

"Ginny," he drawled, watching her from beneath golden eyelashes, "to what do I owe this honour?"

"I read _The Daily Prophet_ article," she spoke as she clenched her fists to her sides.

"Ah," he said, in the tone of man who has been enlightened, "a superb piece of journalistic art."

"Hardly," Ginny snapped, glaring at him, "I want a retraction in tomorrow's paper, along with an apology to myself for libellous reporting."

"Libellous?" he mused softly, still staring at her intently. "I do not know if I would use that to describe that article."

"You planted it," she breathed out her earlier suspicions, somewhat mollified when he inclined his pale head slightly in confirmation. "I can't believe you!"

"I rarely start a battle that I expect to lose," he pointed out with devastating conviction. "I also get what I want." 

His silver eyes gleamed at her in the elegantly understated lighting of his office.

"Cut the shit," she snarled in return, seeing no need for pleasantries. "This has gone far enough."

"I agree," he stated smoothly, cutting her tirade off before she was able to get started. "My patience is wearing thin. Have you come to a decision?"

Ginny stared at him for a long moment, her eyes tracing his lean form, seated in front of her as if he were the king, and she a mere peasant. She moved to stand directly in front of his desk, leaning her weight on the hands that she braced on the edge.

He looked up at her from across the wooden surface, supremely unconcerned that she had the physical advantage for once.

"I want you to stop all of this."

"Are you willing to accept my terms?"

Ginny felt the breath whoosh out of her at the softly spoken question, and she gasped while staring at him. Authority was written in every part of his being. 

He laced his fingers together and laid them across his flat stomach, seemingly intent on just watching her, and letting the silence between them lengthen.

Watching him, Ginny again took in the patrician beauty of his features. All clean, angular lines, his cheekbones were accentuated by the length of his pale hair pulled clear of his face, and elegantly arched eyebrows that were a shade or two darker. He should have, by all rights, looking something like a ghost, or albino, with his colouring, but he managed to look almost… smouldering was the word that flitted across her mind.

A smouldering bastard.

As she opened her mouth to reply, she took a moment to wonder if she was throwing herself to the lions, and if she would come to regret this decision.

A/N: thank you to all who reviewed! I keep trying to reply to everyone, but it sometimes comes down to my spare time could be used replying, or writing the next chapter! I also suspect the next chapter will be the longest one yet, as I have a lot more time this week... going on vacation with the fiance, and we have a trainride of epic proportions ahead of us, so it should be a good time to write.

Thank you all again!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Ginny stared at Draco for a long moment, wondering about the possibilities. He both scared her, and exhilarated her to a degree that she had not thought those two particular emotions could coincide so easily.

She had to admit that part of her was incredibly curious about his touch, that she felt drawn to his charisma, his confidence, his good-looks.

"I accept. But it will be on my terms," she announced as his lips curled slightly in amusement at her businesslike tone.

He inclined his head slightly. "I will agree to any terms I see as reasonable. But you should realize that for each of your terms, I will have one for you to agree to as well."

Ginny clenched her fists, thinking that it might be counter-productive to punch the arrogant man in the nose.

"First," she spoke as she forced herself to calm down, "I want everything in writing. I want a contract drawn up, and both of us to sign a blood oath."

"I agree with the contract," he replied amiably, watching her with a hungry look passing over his features, "but not with the blood oath. I don't trust blood."

Ginny paused, again looking over at the enigmatic blond in disbelief. She had never heard anyone word their displeasure with that particular brand of oath like that before. Apprehension hit her stomach like a tonne of bricks.

"That is a deal breaker," he continued calmly, seeing the disbelief on her pale, delicate features.

Ginny nodded reluctantly, and kept going. "I don't want the press or my family to know about this."

"No." He was emphatic, though his expression and posture changed little. Ginny frowned.

"Why not?"

"Why do I have to have a reason?" Draco arched a pale brow at her, his lips quirking as she threw herself into one of the large chairs in front of his desk.

"I don't like this one bit," Ginny announced, frowning at him. Draco's lips curved into a slow smile as his eyes studied her. Suddenly feeling like the mouse stalked by a large and hungry feline, Ginny licked her lips, barely noticing how his eyes darkened as he took in the movement of her tongue.

He angled himself out of his seat, and sauntered around the large desk to stand before Ginny, leaning against the desk and looking down at her.

She took a moment to appreciate how his crisp white linen shirt did little to disguise the breadth of his shoulders, how the silver tie he wore elegantly tied around his neck brought attention to his stunning eyes that were watching her from below his eyelashes.

"You don't have to like the terms," he smirked, "pleasure comes later."

Ginny glared up at him even as her nipples contracted at his words.

His low voice continued in a hypnotic drawl, "I have reconsidered my terms."

"What?" Ginny's face lit up at the possibility that he may thought over this whole silly situation, and realized that she just did not want him. "Does this mean that you're going to let me have the media coverage I need for BFW, without this silly sex thing?"

Draco's slow smile spoke of amusement that didn't quite reach his eyes. Ginny shivered at the look in his intense silver eyes, finding herself unable to look away.

He held her gaze for a long moment, before one corner of his lips quirked even higher. "Not at all. I have decided that one night is not enough."

Ginny sputtered in outrage, not even attempting to put words coherently together about this point.

Suddenly, she found herself face to face with him, as he had pulled her out of her chair in a split second, and to her toes without her realizing.

His smile slowly faded as he stared at her, his features betraying a great hunger.

"What would be enough?" she squeaked, desperately trying to break the seductive atmosphere, and distract herself from being held this close to him.

"One year," he spoke softly as his lips curved into another smug smile, the light glinting off of his perfectly formed teeth. "You will be mine for one year."

"A year?" Ginny snarled, bringing her hands up to push against his broad chest. He let her go with little resistance, smirking as he folded his arms. She stumbled to a stop a foot away from him, and glared up into his striking face.

He inclined his head in silent agreement, simply watching her for her reaction. She did not disappoint.

"That is completely out of the question!" she bellowed, placing one finger into the centre of his chest, and pushing hard. It was a move that she had used many times to great affect on her brothers, but he simply ignored her in favour of watching her expressive features.

Ginny growled low in her throat as she turned away from the large blond.

"Is it?" he asked in that same soft tone, his lips close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath gliding along the sensitive skin there.

She could feel him move to stand just behind her, and Ginny fought the urge to shiver at his proximity. He didn't touch her, but it still felt like he was everywhere.

Feeling his warmth at her back, she resisted the urge to lean into him. It didn't help that she could also breathe in his unique and truly addictive scent. He smelled of expensive cologne, freshly laundered robes, and something else. Something that was distinctly Draco.

"Those are my terms." A long pale finger reached out to stroke the skin of her neck that was exposed by her hair pulled into an elegant up do.

Goosepimples formed where his finger brushed her skin, and Ginny shivered involuntarily. He seemed to always know just how to touch her to throw her mind into complete and utter chaos. All of that, without even the presence of his lips on her own.

Ginny closed her eyes, feeling helplessness wash over her. Ignoring the movements of his fingers, she thought about the reactions of her family. Of her friends.

There was no way around this. He effectively held the cards, and they were all aces.

Hating him, and hating the way that he made her feel, she stepped away.

She turned to see him watching her with only a polite interest, only the glowing of his eyes giving him away.

"In what capacity?" she asked, knowing that she was stalling, but needing something akin to reassurance.

He watched her emotionlessly for a moment before responding. "You will move in with me, and share my life. You will be mine."

"Like some little toy, like an acquisition?" she spat, her fingers curling into the fists that Charlie had taught her to fight with before she had left for Hogwarts. He had insisted that she needed to know how to defend herself, but she had had little opportunity to use those skills. Clearly, that was about to change.

"If you want me to play with you, I am more than agreeable," he murmured. She tensed at the sight of that infuriating smirk that she itched to smack off of his face.

"Stop with the word games, you arse." Ginny was getting very angry, and if anything, his eyes darkened at the sight of this. He took a step closer to the little firecracker, smiling when she took a step back.

This continued until he had effectively trapped her against the wall of his office, leaving her no place else to go.

"I might refrain from name-calling if I were you, Ginny." Draco spoke softly, but with ultimate authority.

Simmering brandy eyes watched him as he leaned in close.

"As I was saying," he whispered seductively against her lips, "you will accompany me to functions, parties, business trips, and so on. You will act the part of the happy little paramour on my arm. And you will find your way to my bed each night."

Ginny shivered at the feeling of his lips moving against hers, "what about my life?"

"My little Gryffindor," his lips curled around the ironic sentiment, "I hardly want you to hang around me like a besotted puppy all day. You are free to fill your days as you please. It's your nights that I want."

Ginny blinked up at him, knowing deep down that she should be incredibly offended and angry by his words, but the will leaving her as he brushed his lips against her own over and over.

She could feel her head tipping back in order to help him deepen the kiss, and he seemed to take full advantage by gently grasping her lower lip between his sharp teeth, and suckling the delicate skin there.

Ginny moaned lightly, involuntarily, and took a step closer, her hands finding their way to his lean hips. Draco steadily increased the pressure until she could feel his tongue penetrating the moist cavity of her mouth, exploring all that he found there.

He coaxed her to meet him, stroking her tongue with his own as he did so in a manner akin to a teacher congratulating a pupil on their newly acquired knowledge.

Feeling her knees shaking, Ginny pulled back until their lips just rested against eachother, her hands still holding onto him. His only hold on her was the lightest brush of his fingertips against her jawbone, his thumb stroking the soft skin that it found there.

He smiled slightly against her lips, before taking a step back from her. Ginny's fingers curled together as they fell, already seeming to miss the warm male that they had been holding before being suddenly deprived of.

Their eyes locked, and Ginny shivered against her will. The man was a complete git, but a sexy one, nonetheless. She took in the slight colour along his high cheekbones, and the gleam of his eyes, before her gaze moved to find his lips slick, and slightly parted, as if waiting for her to press forward and meet them once more.

She shook her head, ignoring her traitorous thoughts. "I need to know more. I thought that you wanted a night. What changed?"

"Do I need a reason?"

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny tried to get past how much his flippant answers irritated her. "I think I need more of an explanation."

"Do you now?" He arched a pale eyebrow and turned to saunter back to his desk chair, angling himself into the leather surface with an elegant move.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, letting the air out of her mouth, Ginny concentrated on doing this, letting her eyes close.

"May I ask what you are doing?"

She shook her head, and held up her index finger in a gesture to give her a moment. Finally, feeling her anger back under her control, she opened her eyes to see Draco staring at her in something that she might term bewilderment if it was someone even slightly less confident.

Settling herself back in the chair opposite, she crossed her legs, and took the time to arrange her suit skirt across her knees before looking back up at him.

"Right. I am ready now."

Both eyebrows rose an inch as he watched her intently. "Explain."

She took the opportunity to smirk at him for a change. "I don't feel the need."

Draco stared at her for a moment, before throwing his head back and laughing. She watched him in shock, amazed that Draco Malfoy was capable of such an open expression of amusement.

She hated to notice how beautiful he was when he actually smiled.

Reaching for a quill and parchment, Draco smirked at her again briefly before he started to write.

"I don't agree with spending a year with you." She felt the need to reiterate now that she felt calmer.

"I don't believe you really have a choice."

The sad part was, was that he was right. Ginny grit her teeth, and decided to continue negotiating.

"What about my business?"

"You are more than welcome to continue with your business. I won't do anything to get in your way, and in fact, I will waive the initial advertising fees for the media campaign."

Ginny stared at him intently as he continued writing without even looking up at her. "I want free advertising for the entire duration of our contract."

He paused with his quill halfway across the parchment, "you play hardball, Weasley."

"It's my deal breaker," she replied coolly, unwilling to rise to the bait of his barbed compliment. "I also want you to appear in public at least six times in a BFW Quidditch sweater."

Draco watched her intently with a feral look in his eyes that gleamed in approval at her tactics. "Two."

"Four."

"Three."

"Done." She smiled in satisfaction. "And I want you to be photographed in the sweater, and for BFW's name to be mentioned anytime that I appear in any media outlet."

"Agreed." He smirked, his lips curling around his words. "We've already gone over my terms, but I will also include a generous allowance for you to be seen in the appropriate attire, and so on."

"I don't want it," Ginny responded immediately, the idea that he would be paying her getting under her skin like nothing that was said prior.

"You need it," he assured her. "You will be expected to be at my business functions, as well as accompany me on business trips, and your appearance reflects on me. Take the money, buy clothing and accessories, and then tip them all of the side of a bridge at the end, for all I care."

"Fine." She looked away as she replied tersely.

"All gifts are yours to do with as you wish," he continued, seemingly ignoring her as he scratched the quill across the parchment. "You will be expected to be courteous to my business associates and friends."

"I am not a child," she snapped.

He watched her with a calculating look in his mercury eyes. "Oh, you do not need to argue that point to me."

Fighting the blush that she could feel rising, Ginny thought about what they had discussed, about all of the terms. Briefly, she wondered how she was going to tell her family about this. They would probably not understand that she had entered into this sort of 'business' arrangement with Draco Malfoy.

"I don't want anyone knowing about this contract outside of our lawyers," Ginny spoke quietly, not looking at the man seated across from her.

"Agreed." Draco's teeth gleamed as he smiled. Ginny was reminded of a hungry wolf, and she shuddered inwardly.

"What will we tell people?"

"Why do we need to tell anyone anything?" he asked with a quirk of a brow. "It is not really any of their business beyond the pretty glossy pictures that will inevitably appear in print."

"Especially when you're clothed in BFW merchandise," Ginny rejoined, somewhat cattily. He simply smirked slightly inclining his head in agreement, and her attention caught on his full lower lip.

She swallowed, and continued, intent on ignoring the knowing look in his eye, "I had meant what do what I am to tell my family, friends, people like that."

"Tell them whatever you wish." He waved a hand gracefully, as if this topic was of no concern. "As I have stated, my only concern is that you appear in my bed at night, and on my arm for social and business functions."

"What about my business functions?"

"Oh, I'm sure that I could make an appearance…" his voice was silky smooth as he responded.

Ginny sighed, and turned in her seat to stare out the window, this time hardly noticing the spectacular view.

"I want all acquisition moves against BFW to cease from Malfoy Enterprises. I also want to be able to keep my own flat," she stated in a flat voice.

"Fine, but I will expect you to live at my residence for the duration." His lips curved into a slow smile. "You mentioned a few days ago that you would never lie in my bed, wanting me, and yet, look at how short a time never has truly proven to be."

Ginny snarled at him, unable to think of a suitable comeback to his barb.

His smile widened into the smirk that she hated so much, arrogance in full place on his features, "why, by the end of this week, I will probably already have fucked your tight little pussy."

She stared at him stonily, dismayed to find that she was starting to get used to Draco's blunt way of speaking to her.

Ginny left soon after with Draco informing her that his lawyers would owl her a copy of their contract by the next day, and that if she expected him to honour it, that she should sign and return it within two hours of receiving it.

Ginny spent the rest of the day in a fog. She barely spoke at the partner's meeting that afternoon, earning looks of concern from Seamus and Lavender.

They discussed the new campaign, and whether England would have a chance at that year's World Cup, which would greatly enhance their viability in the domestic market.

Then, Lavender and Ginny sat through Seamus' grumblings about how hard it was even this far in advance to get tickets to the big event. He then seemed to be speaking to himself as he wondered about Scotland's chances of reaching the World Cup for the first time in more than one hundred years.

Lavender, taking advantage as Seamus paused to sigh about his team, brought up the idea of expanding their new line. She had been thinking about it, and it seemed to make sense to look into bringing out a new line of ultra lightweight Quidditch protective gear, or even hats that were akin to those that muggles wore to support their favourite teams.

Ginny agreed with Lavender's ideas, and brought up the possibility of other clothing items with team logos, as well as possibly looking into sponsoring a Quidditch team in the following season.

Seamus grinned at these suggestions, and pulled out a legal pad to start taking notes with the muggle pen that he had really never been able to give up in favour of quills. He had always managed to dribble ink down the front of his shirt with quills, and he kept trying to talk Lavender and Ginny into using pens with just such an argument.

Ginny wondered aloud how much galleons it would take to have exclusive advertising rights at a Quidditch game, or how much it would take to sell BFW merchandise at the World Cup itself, instead of just through one of their suppliers.

Even while she was speaking, Ginny felt a million miles away.

The meeting was adjoined a little later, with Lavender and Seamus both eager to look into some of the ideas that they had brainstormed.

Later that afternoon, Ginny sat in her office contemplating what exactly had happened earlier in Malfoy's office.

She had effectively given herself to Draco Malfoy, and there was not a bloody thing she could do about it.

A year… A year with the enemy. Though she prided herself on being brave, she couldn't help but fear her decision.

For once, Ginny was one of the first people out of the office. She had barely had time to grab her briefcase before she had apparated into her flat.

Knocking into someone already standing in her front hallway startled her enough into shrieking, and swinging said briefcase into her assailant's face, before his cries and image came into focus.

"Bill?" Ginny squinted up at her eldest brother in the darkness of her hallway.

He swore briefly before flicking his wand at the overhead light to provide some much-needed illumination. "Ginny. I think you almost banged my head in."

"Sorry." She grinned ruefully, and reached up to kiss his cheek, chuckling as he flinched away from her and held his hands up in mock defence. "Oh, stop that. I forgot that you were coming over. Did you just get here?"

"Yes. Just in time for my baby sister to try to brain me," he grinned as he spoke, and turned to walk into her flat. "Just don't tell the twins!" he called over his shoulder as he went.

Ginny laughed, immediately feeling better for the presence of her brother, and followed him. Her briefcase got flung onto her wide couch, and she toed out of her heels en route to the kitchen where Bill had already found the icebox.

"Can I get you anything?" she asked archly, leaning against the doorframe.

Bill turned to her slightly with the crooked grin that each Weasley possessed. "Sorry Gin, I've just come from work though, and I'm famished. You can home for dinner with me after and eat whatever Fleur's making though if you like."

Ginny's mouth watered at the thought of her sister-in-law's French cooking, and she thought about it. She then thought about her meeting with Malfoy earlier that day, and decided some form of distraction was in order. Her thoughts kept returning to those kisses that had happened in his office as well, and that would just not do.

"Maybe. I was actually thinking about getting out my broom, and going to play some Quidditch. Interested?" Ginny spoke determinedly, not wanting to let her thoughts wander back to the former Slytherin who suddenly seemed to be everywhere.

His blue eyes gleamed as he nodded around the glass of pumpkin juice that he had managed to scrounge up from the meagre offerings that he had found. Ginny winced as she realized that _Magically Yours_ was due to replenish her icebox the following day. Suddenly, dinner at Bill and Fleur's was sounding better and better.

Summoning a butter knife with a flick of his wand, Bill used up the last of her bread with a thick spreading of marmite. "Who else will be there? We could play on the land behind my place."

Ginny grinned at him, leaving him to finish his snack and set up her wards, as she dashed into her bedroom to change into track pants and a heavy jumper. She stuffed a change of clothing and her Quidditch gear into a bag, minimizing it to fit in her pocket.

As Bill wandered the periphery of her flat, Ginny flooed Ron and Harry, and the twins to see who would be coming out.

Though she hadn't played competitively since leaving Hogwarts, Ginny still loved the sport, and spent a good deal of her scarce free time flying.

It was especially fun to get together with her brothers and Harry, as there was always a lot of laughter, shouting, and general exuberance.

Much of the evening was spent zooming around Bill's magically expanded backyard, trying to alternatively knock Harry off his broom, and score enough goals to make sure that even if he did catch the snitch, that it wouldn't matter.

The game eventually ended when he did just that, and Ginny groaned as he and the twins celebrated their victory over Bill, Ron and herself.

"Cheaters!" Ron shook his fist good-naturedly at them as he floated to a landing, the side of his face covered in mud from when he had foolishly followed George into a dive.

Ginny laughed as she flew up behind Harry to ruffle his black hair teasingly. "Alright there Harry? Took you long enough, old man!"

His response was to reach over his head, and pull her off her broom and onto the slushy snow-covered ground with an "oof".

Fred laughed at the look of his sister in the mud. "That's a good look for you, Gin!"

Turning to see, George echoed his agreement, smirking as Ginny flashed them a rude hand gesture, before trying to ineffectually wipe a smear off of her cheek.

"Alright there, Gin?" Harry asked with a wicked smile as the others started to make their way back to the house while pushing and shoving one another.

Fleur stood laughing just outside of the back door of the small bungalow, one hand resting protectively on her protruding belly.

Ginny smiled up at him innocently, before grabbing hold of his ankle, and pulling him down into the muck beside her.

He yelped, and flailed as he went down, much to the redhead's satisfaction. "I am now!"

Ginny giggled as he made another grab for her, missing the back of her Quidditch sweater by centimetres as she jumped up and ran for the house.

The smell of cream sauce, and seafood greeted her as she entered, as well as the scent of warm chocolate, and Ginny's mouth watered. Fleur was an amazing cook, and Ginny tried to spend as much time as possible at Bill and Fleur's house.

Despite Molly Weasley's best efforts, Ginny still had troubles boiling water, one of many reasons she loved _Magically_ _Yours_ so much. She wondered if Draco had a housekeeper, or a house elf, or something that cooked and cleaned. She had to assume so, as she could not really see the high powered executive coming home from the office and cooking and cleaning for himself.

That part of being with him might not be so bad. She thought briefly about spending time in his bed, and shivered. There was no denying that she wanted him… but it almost felt like he could consume her if she was not careful.

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the awesome reviews!! I love to read them, and I try to reply when I can… but I'm busy, so you have to be patient with me.

It was also recently brought to my attention that a few of my readers are underaged… I don't want to tell anyone what to do here, but that makes me a tiny bit uncomfortable, as this story is meant for an older audience. In the upcoming chapters this will be more obvious, and I want to put the warning out there now. This story is rated 'M' for a reason… Please don't flame me for adult content if you are not of age… Actually, don't flame me at all, because that is not constructive.

Please let me know if you have any questions, or comments!! Thank you once again!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Ginny sat down to eat with Bill and Fleur after cleaning herself off with a splash of water in their watercloset. The remainder of their casual Quidditch teams had been shooed home by Fleur who felt that her beautifully cooked dinner wouldn't be appreciated by a group of sweaty males.

Though they had never been the best of friends, Ginny had genuinely grown to enjoy Fleur's presence. She was one of the smartest women Ginny had ever met, a trait which was constantly overlooked due to her incredible beauty.

At that moment, Fleur was sitting at a weird angle to the table, trying to reach her food around her belly, and grumbling about her general awkwardness, "I swear, _ze_ table is moving away from me. Look at _eet_! _Ze _moment you do not watch, it moves!"

Ginny stared at her plate in fierce concentration, determined to not even smile at her sister-in-law, who was slightly touchy about her body at the moment. Bill, not understanding the need for sensitivity at this moment, most likely due to his composition as a male, started snorting, which turned into full-blown laughter.

"_Bill, no._" Ginny hissed out of the side of her mouth, watching Fleur's pale fingers tighten on her fork. If anything, he proceeded to laugh louder. This did not go over well.

"William Weasley," Fleur's voice was tight, her jaw clenched, "I do not _zink_ that I like you laughing at me."

Ginny aimed a kick at her brother's shin under the table, determined to help him salvage his marriage. He jumped, and glared at her, before following her concerned gaze to where Fleur sat, her perfect chin now trembling, moisture gathering in her beautiful blue eyes.

"Merlin…" Bill shot out of his chair just as his baby sister decided that she wanted to see the rest of their small cottage.

Wandering around the cosy house, Ginny thought back to her meeting with Draco Malfoy. It had acquired an almost dream-like quality in her mind already.

Had she really agreed to spend the year with him? HIM? Draco bloody Malfoy, the one man who got under her skin to a degree that she almost feared him. Ginny frowned, deciding not to think about it yet.

Hearing murmurs still coming from the dining room, she wandered further away, stopping to look at the pictures of Fleur's native France that dotted the shelves, along with pictures of friends and family.

She grinned as she spotted a picture of herself, as a toddler, hugging the teenaged Bill as he swung her around and around, both redheads smiling madly and laughing at the camera.

This was the house of a happy family. A very happy family, despite the hysterical female screaming now sounding from the dining room, Ginny decided resolutely. If she wasn't so in love with her job, this might appeal to her… Hell, it appealed to her, but not enough. That was always the problem.

Now, if only her mother could understand that.

Running a hand through her hair, Ginny grimaced at the slightly greasy feel of the curls. She pulled the elastic band that she kept on her watch off and pulled the red mass into a loose ponytail at the back of her head.

Outside of the office, she really didn't put that much effort into her appearance, and tonight was no exception. She was wearing baggy frayed jeans, and a thin t-shirt that had probably seen better days. The most important thing was that she was comfortable. And makeup charms irritated her skin, so they were definitely kept to a minimum.

Clotheshorse Daphne had all but given up on Ginny. She had taken to heading over to the redhead's flat before their nights out with Hermione, and forcing Ginny into clothing that she deemed suitable. This often differed with Ginny's ideas of suitable, and had provided some very memorable arguments to date.

"Ginny?" Fleur's voice sounded, dragging Ginny out of her reverie. "Ginny? Come finish your supper. It will get frozen."

Ginny entered the room to find a contrite looking Bill, and a glowing Fleur, now seated comfortably with a large pillow supporting her lower back, and digging into a bowl of fruit that had not previously been there.

Again concentrating on her plate, this time to keep from laughing at her eldest brother, Ginny picked up her fork and took another bite of Fleur's delicious cooking.

"So, Ginny," Bill angled his wife a look before continuing, "what have you been up to? How's work?"

"Busy," she took a sip of wine before swallowing, "the new line looks incredible. And I've already ordered a complete collection for the newest female in the family." She shot a teasing smile at Fleur.

Fleur smiled back, showing her perfectly pearly white teeth. "Just as long as they are French Quidditch teams, yes?"

"Of course." Ginny laughed, relieved that the tension that had sprung up so quickly earlier in the evening had now dissipated.

"With one Canons kit, right Love?" Bill slanted a glance at his wife, looking relieved when she laughed in response, with a shake of her head, sending her silky blonde hair flying around her slight shoulders.

"Just let me know," Ginny replied, a wide grin across her delicate features, "this baby is going to be so spoiled."

"Have you met our mum?" Bill asked with an answering grin. "Though, I'm looking forward to a lot of baby-sitting hours from her only aunt."

"Of course," Ginny rolled her eyes. Each of her brothers had said that upon the arrival of their own offspring.

There were Percy's twin boys, Michael and Matthew, whose mother was unfortunately no longer in picture, having decided that motherhood was not what she wanted after all, and had gone home to America. And Charlie had had a little boy named Ash with his wife, Luna, almost three years prior. There was also Ron's baby boy, Jamie, that he saw on the weekends as he and Parvati had recently separated and she had temporary custody.

The twins were, thankfully, childless. Ginny shivered at the thought of either of them reproducing. They were consummate bachelors, and enjoyed incredibly varied love lives.

Though Ginny had Ella to buy girlie-princess items for, it was going to be nice to have another little girl around. Little boys just never understood sparkles and pink. They seemed to only understand mud, grime, and sports, and Ginny had had quite enough of that growing up with six brothers.

"Oh, we're also heading back to see my family this summer," Fleur looked up from a strawberry to tell Ginny, "after the baby comes. Would you like to come with us?"

"That would be amazing!" Ginny thought furiously about Paris… the Champs Elysee, Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, everything… had never been before. There had never really been money for traveling when she was a child, beyond the one trip to Egypt, and then she had been too busy with work.

"I'll let you know the details when we have them sorted out," Bill told her with a smile. "We'll probably stay for only a couple of weeks at the most."

"Sounds good…" Ginny trailed off, remembering exactly what her arrangement had been with Draco Malfoy. "Actually, I might need to get back to you whether I can come. Work and such…"

"What?" Fleur looked at her sister-in-law with surprise, "we would love to have you with us! You work too hard."

"I know," Ginny felt so incredibly guilty, and angry as she realized just what she had agreed to. It felt like she was no longer in charge of her own life. She was far too independent for this type of arrangement.

She looked up to find Bill watching her with a studiously casual air. "What's up, Gin?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Bill sat back in his chair, exchanging a glance with his wife before continuing. "I mean, that you've had your head in the clouds for almost a week now. You're so distracted, even Hermione mentioned something at work the other day."

"It's nothing." She waved off his concerns with a wave of her hand, widening her brown eyes.

"Ginny, you can talk to us." Fleur leaned over to grasp Ginny's hand, "trust us. It's not like we will go speaking with your mother, if that worries you."

"Oh, no, it's not that…" Ginny was starting to get nervous. It didn't appear like they would be dropping this topic anytime soon.

The couple stared at her for a long moment, willing her to talk.

Ginny stared back before the silence got to her, and she decided on a story to tell her family.

"Actually, there is something happening. I didn't want to say anything but…" She took a deep breath, and started lying, "I'm in love."

"You?" Bill blinked in shock, barely noticing as his wife smashed her heel into his shin. "You're in love? With who?"

"That's wonderful!" Fleur angled another look at her husband before leaning across the table awkwardly to hug Ginny. Ginny bore the hug as best she could, guilt now truly settling in.

"Who?" Bill was completely lost, and felt like he was missing something.

Ginny sighed, and spoke as Fleur sat back, "Draco Malfoy. Do you see now why I didn't say anything before? It's not like the Malfoys have a great history with our family."

"And… you love him?" Bill blinked, shocked by his sister's admission.

Unable to say anything to that question, Ginny simply nodded in response. Fleur clapped her hands in delight.

"Draco? Oh, but he was so good looking!" Ginny and Bill both turned to look at Fleur in shock.

"Excuse me?" Bill arched a red eyebrow at his very pregnant wife.

"I met him at Hogwarts," she explained with a smile, reaching across the table to hold onto his hand, "he was very nice to me."

"Of course he was," Ginny rolled her eyes. Surprising that Draco had been charming to the blonde part-Veela. She bit back the rolling black emotion that rose in her mind, ashamed to feel jealousy over her sister-in-law.

"When did this happen?" Bill was still trying to understand all of this. "I didn't even realize that you knew him, beyond his seeming mutual hatred for the trio when they were in school."

"Well, we didn't know each other incredibly well in Hogwarts," she agreed readily. Crossing her finger behind her back, she proceeded to tell another whopper, "but we met up again awhile back, and well… we're in love."

"Right…" Bill spoke slowly, "I can see why you might not have said anything."

"Exactly," Ginny nodded earnestly, "but it's gotten serious."

"How serious?" His blue eyes narrowed.

Ginny took yet another deep breath, "very serious. We're moving in together."

"Oh, Ginny!" Fleur was delighted. "This is amazing! Oh, we must celebrate. Bill, get the champagne we brought back with us last time we went to see Gabrielle."

Bill gave Ginny a black look, before getting up to go grab the specified bottle.

Fleur leaned across the table as soon as he was out of earshot, her eyes alert and searching. "Do not think that this is the end of this discussion, Ginevra. I want to hear exactly what is going on later. I don't believe you for a moment."

"You won't tell Bill, though, will you?" Ginny leaned forward too, not entirely unsurprised. Fleur was far too perceptive.

"Of course not." She waved off that concern, "he does not need to know anything until you are ready."

"Thanks Fleur." Ginny smiled gratefully at her sister-in-law before turning to watch her brother entering the room with the champagne and three crystal flutes that he and Fleur had received as part of a set at their wedding.

She braced herself for further, somewhat amateur when compared to Fleur, questioning from her eldest brother.

--

"Mum, I've moved in with Draco Malfoy for a year of wealth and debauchery."

No.

"Mum, I've met the love of my life. Now, he may be a former death eater, but he has given me free advertising."

Definitely not.

"Mum, you might want not want to read _The Prophet _for a few days. I'm shagging Draco Malfoy, but don't worry, I'm just doing it for my company."

Maybe.

"Mum, you know how you always say that you want me to find a chap to go home to? Well, I took your advice!"

The might not go over well.

"Mummy, he's very sexy, and though I hate him, he makes me think he could do things other than annoy me with his tongue."

Interesting.

Ginny looked gloomily around her comfortable sitting room. It was small, but it comfortable and was decorated in light yellows and creams, with hints of chocolate browns. She loved the couch that she had picked out a couple of years earlier as well. It was wide, and soft, and she enjoyed sitting on it and listening to the Wizarding Wireless, or reading.

She didn't want to leave her home. And she definitely did not want to tell her family, especially her mother, about why she was leaving, not after the reaction that they had all had to the mere rumour that there was something between her and Malfoy. This was why she was currently practicing what to say.

Her mum was crafty, having raised that many troublemaking sons, and it took a lot of work to lie to her on such a grand scale. Oh, Ginny had done it before, mostly about her present living conditions and her ability to take care for herself with cooking and cleaning, but it was still difficult.

Her mum was a firm believer in a woman being able to do those sorts of tasks for herself. Ginny was a firm believer in paying inexpensive services to do them for her. And to have automatic cleaning charms whenever possible.

The various pictures placed around the small room caught her attention, and Ginny stood up to look at them one by one. There was one of her holding Ella just an hour after her birth.

Then there was a picture of Harry and her at their engagement party. Ginny shook her head ruefully. What a disaster that had been.

The picture of her family, including all of her brothers, wives, and nephews from the previous Christmas was one of her favourites. It, of course, also included all of the honorary Weasleys, like Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Ella.

Merlin… she was going to have to pack so much if she was truly to move in with her enemy. Ginny grimaced at the thought, wondering if the Ministry would frown at the loss of someone so obnoxiously arrogant as Draco Malfoy. Perhaps, it wouldn't due to stab him with the first implement she came across… mores the pity.

She had received and subsequently signed the carefully worded contract earlier that morning at her office. Immediately, upon her signature, the document had disappeared, and numerous heads had appeared in her floo, one right after the other, from various media outlets, clamouring for the new campaign to fill the top advertising spaces in their respective mediums.

Ginny had been a little overwhelmed, to tell the truth. Draco Malfoy had more power and influence than she had honestly thought possible. To have so many people jumping to do your bidding… well, the thought was mildly heady.

Sitting in the small window seat at the corner of her flat, Ginny looked out on Hogsmeade. She loved living in this town. And she loved supporting the local, and mainly family-owned, shops.

She loved seeing the hordes of Hogwarts students on the occasional weekend outing, and the various professors that she talked to on an almost daily basis in the small pubs and restaurants.

Apparently, after having Maeve do some homework on Malfoy, he lived in a large penthouse flat in the middle of London. That information did nothing to raise her spirits about the whole situation.

Neither had the allowance he had allotted her, which the contract had stated that the first installment would be deposited into her personal Gringotts account immediately upon her signature. Payment might be the better word for it, she thought with a sniff.

Ginny smiled as she recalled her lunch hour during the day, when she had met up with Harry for bangers in Diagon, followed by a quick jaunt down to Gringotts. St. Mungo's would be very pleased by the amount that she had donated to their charitable account.

That small act of rebelliousness, as well as the thought that the money would be doing some good, made her feel a little bit better about her circumstances.

She was due to move in with the blond git by the end of the week, as the contract had stated, and Malfoy had hired a moving company to help her with the job.

Ginny couldn't help but remember when she had moved out of the Burrow to her apartment. Her brothers had helped her along with Harry, as they had still been planning on getting married at that point. It had been a great day, though the many men in her life irritated her to no end by going through her things and critiquing how many robes and shoes she had.

Her mum had spent the day cooking, trying to send Ginny off with numerous dinners and snacks in the fear that she would starve. Molly Weasley knew her daughter well, as that was pretty close to the truth.

Picking up _The Daily Prophet_, Ginny checked the Quidditch scores for the weekend, making sure that the Canons were still at the top. Oliver Wood needed to continue being a successful player on a successful team, or BFW would have wasted a lot of money.

Thank Merlin, the Canons had had an excellent weekend. Ginny could just imagine Ron cheering them on as he listened to the Wizarding Wireless.

Wandering into her small kitchen, she grabbed the container of chicken curry and rice that _Magically Yours_ had left, among with several other dishes. Ginny read the careful instructions on the side of the dish, before shooting it with a warming spell and grabbing a butterbeer out of the icebox.

Sitting down with her dinner at the small table that she kept in the corner of her kitchen, Ginny looked through the files that she had brought home from work. There was just so much to be done… and now she had to worry about moving in with the blond git by Saturday.

It was late before she finally made her way to bed, rubbing her eyes as she went. Sleepwear seemed like entirely too much effort right at that moment, so she simply pulled off the track pants and jumper that she had changed into upon her arrival home from work

Climbing between sheets, the material cool against her bare skin, Ginny stared at the ceiling. Something about Draco Malfoy made it impossible to think beyond him, and that irritated her more than she cared to admit. No male had ever really gotten under her skin to the extent that he had, and she loathed that she was a little curious to see what the next year would hold.

She fell asleep dreaming of silver eyes, liquid mercury shining as if lit from behind.

The next day, was busy. Ginny barely had a second to even sit down as she ran about trying to get everything ready for the unofficial unveiling that would be happening for their bank investors, among other very important people who had an interest in BFW.

Seamus and Lavender were similarly busy, and the three spent their now-daily staff meeting snapping at each other, and working to keep the stress level to a minimum. It was not easy.

"Why don't you just do your own bloody job, and keep your huge nose out of my fucking business?" Lavender erupted as Seamus again picked at her presentation notes.

His eyes narrowed, and he answered in kind as Ginny closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. It was already feeling like a long day, and it was still morning.

"Ok!" She shouted over her two partners who were both acting decidedly unprofessional. They both turned to her in shock, their mouths still open. "That's enough. Let's get out of here. We'll go get ice cream, or drinks, or something. Let's take a break."

Amidst their protestations, she ushered them out the door, and yelled to Maeve where they were going and how long for.

Soon, they were sitting around a table in an ice cream parlour in Diagon, each silent as they slurped their cold treats. The rest of the small restaurant was empty, as ice cream was not the treat that most people thought of first in the middle of February.

In fact, the pimply, sullen teenager behind the counter had given the three of them a very strange look at their appearance in full business suits and professional robes.

Feeling the sugar race through her system, Ginny sighed, and licked her spoon.

She looked up to find Seamus staring at her intently. "Do that once more, Ginny."

Lavender reached over with her free hand, her beautifully manicured nails sparkling in the dim lighting, and slapped him across the back of the head nonchalantly. "None of that."

He grinned, unrepentant, and turned back to his own bowl. Ginny laughed, and spooned up another mouthful of her own ice cream.

"I'm excited," Lavender shared with a grin of her own. Ginny blinked at her uncharacteristic show of emotion. Lavender was generally the consummate professional, which was why she was such a good PR person. "I'm excited about this new line. I think this could change everything about merchandising with Quidditch."

"Definetely." Seamus was enthusiastic in his agreement. "I've already had other manufacturers asking me about it. There's already a lot of word-of-mouth."

"That's exactly what we're looking for." Ginny was over the moon with this bit of knowledge. "Everything else is taken care of, it's all looking really good. We might even want to think about hiring on some new people to take up the slack in a few months."

"Oh, and Ginny…" Lavender took another bite delicately, her face carefully expressionless, "I heard something about you and Draco Malfoy."

"Ah." Ginny was not incredibly surprised. It seemed like her personal life was becoming less and less personal these days on.

"Malfoy?" Seamus arched an eyebrow, surprised. "The git from Hogwarts? What have you been doing with him, Gin?"

"I heard… that you and Malfoy have been seeing each other for some time, and that you're about to move in with him."

"Who did you hear that from?"

"My sources…" Lavender leveled her a gaze. Lavender tended to know everything that went on in the wizarding world. "How much of it is true?"

"All of it." Ginny replied, not happy that there were already this many rumours about her and Malfoy.

"Malfoy." Seamus shook his head, and took a sip of the water that was placed next to his dish. "That's kind of surprising."

"Look, Gin," Lavender ignored Seamus, "it's none of our business what goes on with your love life… but, you know what I'm trying to get at here…"

"Don't do anything that would negatively affect the company." Ginny repeated the mantra that they had agreed on before they had gone into business together. In the wizarding world, image was all-important, and they understood that a lot better than most new companies.

"Exactly." Lavender nodded, relieved she didn't have to spell it out for her partner. "Just… be careful. And make him wear BFW kits whenever possible. The git gets pictured in more newspapers than the Minister."

Ginny simply smiled at her careful co-worker, inwardly amused at how closely Lavender mirrored her in business sometimes.

A/N: Thank you so much to all who reviewed. There's a lot more to come, and I'm sorry there was no Draco in this chapter… he is in this story pretty heavily from here on out. I love hearing what you all think, so please keep telling! I know, I'm shameless… and yet, strangely ok with it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Hermione worked for Gringotts, in a similar department to Bill. She focused mainly on the security of the bank, and wards and charms were her specialty. With her ferocious memory, and intelligence, she had been in high demand upon leaving at the top of her class from Hogwarts.

Gringotts played dirty. They ensured she had the standard salary, vacation, benefits as many other organizations that had been recruiting her, but then they threw in the bonus that fixed the deal. They offered her a research opportunity in their development board on top of the regular position.

She and Dean had bought a flat in downtown London a few years prior, in a bid to be closer to their Muggle parents, that boasted a swimming pool in the basement, and a fireplace hooked up to the Floo network.

Because of Hermione's job, and subsequent fascination with security wards, the Granger/Thomas flat was her basis for experimentation.

Getting into said flat if you did not live there was always interesting.

Ginny waited patiently, allowing her wand to be scanned, as well as her retinas before moving to the voice recognition charm. Her patience dimmed slightly as she was still detained from entering the Floo grate to await verbal consent from an inhabitant to allow her entry.

Dean grinned at her as she finally stormed out of their fireplace.

"Hey Gin." His teeth gleamed against his dark skin as he marked his place in the book he was reading. "Did you like Hermione's upgrades?"

Ginny growled at him, intent on hitting every part of herself with cleansing charms as Ella came running down the hall.

"Auntie Ginny!" The little girl came skidding across the hardwood floor, her kinky brown curls flying behind her.

Ginny had a moment to appreciate the abundance of pink sequins that Ella seemed to be drenched in before she was almost bowled over by a hug to the knees. "Ooomph."

Dean shook his head as stood. "What brings you here, Gin?"

"I was actually looking for Hermione," Ginny's voice was muffled as she picked a squealing Ella up, and swung her around in a tight hug.

"No worries." Dean turned away, to shout down the hall, "'Mione!"

Hermione bustled out, looking slightly harassed, a quill stuck behind her hair. "Dean, I've asked you not to shout in here… We're going to get complaints from Miss. Smith downstairs."

He was unrepentant as he grinned, and walked over to brush his lips across hers. Ginny couldn't hear what he said to her friend next, but Hermione's ivory skin flushed with colour, and she stared into Dean's eyes as he brushed her mouth again.

"Come on Ella-baby," he turned to cajole his daughter away. "Let's let Mummy and Ginny talk. You and I can go have a tea party."

Apparently, this was a pretty good offer as Ella bounced to her dad's side, and they made their way to her room.

"Alright there, Gin?" Hermione spoke despite her decided blush, and she turned away to gather up the toys that seemed to be perpetually lining their living room.

"What did he say?" Ginny arched an eyebrow at her friend. "It was naughty, wasn't it?"

"Twit." The brunette scrubbed at her cheeks with her hands, trying to dispel the lingering heat before turning back to Ginny. "Anyway, it's nice to see you, but why've you dropped by? Surprise baby-sitting?"

Ginny laughed at the hopeful look on Hermione's face. It seemed that ever since her friends and brothers had started having children, that that was the first question asked of her. It was enough to give a girl a complex.

"Not quite." Again, she laughed as Hermione visibly deflated before taking a seat on the patterned couch that took up one side of the room.

"It's getting hard today to remind myself that I love my child," she shared casting a narrowed-eye glance in the direction that Ella and Dean had gone. Hermione sat on the other end of the couch, curling her legs up beneath her. "She managed to bite another child in day care earlier today, and then smeared my favourite lipstick all over the bathroom mirror when we got home."

Ginny coughed, searching around for some way to distract herself from the laughter she could feel bubbling up.

Ella, in a nod to both Dean and Hermione's roots as Muggle-borns, was enrolled in a London day care a few blocks away from their flat, and it was a constant struggle for Hermione who felt a large degree of guilt over working for Gringotts instead of being with her.

Ella, in the manner of almost all children, had figured this out to a certain degree, and seemed to specialize in irritating her mother some days.

"I mean, really," Hermione continued, pushing a curl behind her ear even as her eyes flashed, "the little heathen won't listen to me if I try punishing her, but the moment Daddy gets home, she's an angel."

Chuckling, Ginny spoke with laughter still in her voice, "there's too much of her mum in her. Always has to be contrary unless there is something tangible in it for her."

"True," Hermione sighed, a grin crossing her face, "I had always hoped she had more of Dean in her."

"Children can be like that sometimes," Ginny commiserated, while thanking every God she could think of that her infrequent dreams of motherhood had not come true. "She knows what buttons to push with you."

"True." Hermione mulled it over. "I should get that new parenting book that Agnes was telling me about. Her daughter is almost thirteen, and yet she's the sweetest little thing."

It was no use telling Hermione that a book might be a little overrated. She had mellowed significantly since she started dating Dean, and spending more time with Daphne and Ginny, but books were still the ultimate fount of all knowledge for her.

Ginny, wisely, nodded in agreement.

"How is Dean doing? I didn't get a chance to ask."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's decided that we are going to have another child, and then got into a bit of a snit when I suggested that I might have a say in that decision."

"Men," Ginny snorted.

"Men," Hermione agreed. "So, what brings you here? How's work?"

"Why does everyone always ask me about work?" Ginny asked out of genuine curiosity. "I've just noticed that is always the first thing anyone asks me about."

"Because that is always the first thing on your mind," her friend replied readily.

"Well, work is fine. I'm actually here to talk to you about something else." Ginny was slightly perturbed by Hermione's quick response about her work. She had noticed that it was becoming habit for her work to always be the topic of conversation. Well, except for her mum who had a slightly unhealthy obsession with her love life.

When had she forgotten about everything else that she was interested in?

Clearing her throat, Ginny launched into the speech that she had prepared and spent quite a bit of time perfecting the delivery of.

Hermione stared at her in astonishment at the end of her declaration of love for Draco Malfoy.

"That was all very nice," she spoke as her brows lowered, "but please do tell me the truth this time through."

"That was the truth!" Ginny protested, getting quite indignant that her friend would not believe her, despite the rather glaring fact that there was quite a bit of basis for it.

"Uh huh…" Hermione murmured, staring at her intently. "So… you've decided you love Draco Malfoy, and you're moving in with him by the end of the week."

"Yes." Ginny primly folded her hands in her lap.

Hermione stood up, and with a last glance at her friend, she made her way to the kitchen. "I need a cup of tea. Would you like some?"

Nodding, the redhead stood to follow, grateful for the interruption, and yet confused by it.

"I don't really believe you," Hermione spoke casually as if their conversation had never been disturbed once they reached the kitchen and she stood with her wand pointed at the kettle. It rose to the sink, and was quickly filled with water before she returned it back to the stove.

Ginny focused on taking two mugs out of the cabinet, along with Hermione's Earl Grey. She smiled as she realized that the mugs that she had picked both bore Ella's distinctive finger paintings of suns and blobs of pink paint that she was sure was supposed to be the little girl's parents.

"But I will support you in this, if you want me to," Hermione continued in the same nonchalant tone. "For some reason, you don't seem to want me, or probably anyone else to know the truth, which is fine for the time being. One of these days though, you're going to have to let somebody in."

Ginny nodded, still silent. Hermione always seemed so wise.

As they sat down to sip at their tea, Ginny finally answered her friend. "Ella is a very lucky little girl."

--

Ginny, deciding on self-preservation for the time-being, put off telling the rest of her family and friends about Malfoy. Frowning to herself, Ginny decided that now would be a good time to get into the habit of calling him by his first name. It was hard to think of him like that though.

She was sitting in the middle of her living room, trying to pack everything she would need for one year into the bins that the moving company had sent to her.

It felt like she needed everything, and yet nothing. She didn't want her precious pictures and keepsakes in Draco Malfoy's domain, yet she couldn't imagine being without them for that length of time either.

In the end, she left everything of sentimental value right where it was in her flat, deciding to bring only the necessities.

Feeling her stomache protesting the amount of time that had passed since her hurried lunch at her desk, Ginny flicked her wand at the icebox, closing her eyes and selecting a random dish and a tall glass of pumpkin juice.

It felt a little bit like a picnic eating where she was seated, but a very pathetic picnic. She tried not to think about that as she took a bit of the pasta casserole that had made it's way to sit in front of her.

The deadline of Saturday was fast approaching, and thankfully, there had been nothing more in any of the papers about the involvement of a Weasley and Malfoy.

She just had to get through two more days at the office, which was still as busy as ever, and then Friday night dinner with Daphne and Hermione before moving. Hermione had talked her and Daphne into seeing a moving picture near her apartment in Muggle London.

One thing to be grateful for was that she had not seen the former Slytherin since they had worked out their little deal in his office almost a week prior. She couldn't think when he was around, and it unnerved her to think about the upcoming year.

Packing away her clothing, Ginny came across the small velvet box that held what had been the most important item to her only a few years before. Smiling sadly for what had been lost, she placed it back in the bottom of the drawer.

She placed her business attire in garment bags, carefully folding her blouses and suit jackets to lay properly, along with her shoes before throwing her numerous pairs of jeans, jumpers, and t-shirts into a bin.

Snapping the lid closed, she spared a look around her emptied bedroom, noticing how little it had changed as she had decided to leave so much and just take her clothing from the wardrobe and drawers.

Funny. The last time she had been preparing to move in with a man, her former bedroom had looked completely deserted and desolate.

The last time had been under slightly different circumstances, however.

She wondered about notifying the owl post of her change of address, and decided to have Maeve look into it the next day. There seemed to be a lot involved for a relatively short period of her life.

Ginny looked over at the window as the owl that she recognized as Draco's tapped once, before pushing at the pane that commonly allowed entrance to the birds. She reached over for an owl treat that she kept in her bedside table before she realized that the owl had already turned and left, dropping the attached letter onto the middle of her bed.

"Rude little thing," she muttered to herself as she picked herself off the floor where she had been going through her shoes.

The seal was broken easily, cracked right in the middle of the Malfoy crest, giving Ginny a sort of grim satisfaction.

_My flat. Nine o'clock. _

_DM._

Ginny frowned as she received yet another order to appear from the most arrogant male that she had ever encountered.

Looking down at herself, dressed as she was in track pants and a sloppy jumper, fuzzy pink slippers adorning her feet, Ginny smiled slowly. Draco Malfoy might think he'd won some great war between them, but he had no idea what he was in for.

--

Draco was seated in middle of a large leather sofa, fully relaxed and lounging, one long leg bent at the knee, the other resting on the floor almost completely straight. His posture screamed indolent grace as he cradled a glass of brandy in one hand, while the other arm rested along the back of the piece of furniture.

Ginny took this in as she stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off of her shoulders ass she went. Compared with Hermione and Dean's place, it had been easy to walk into Malfoy's flat, but she could feel the weight of the security wards that Hermione and Bill had taught her to look for. They were simply less flashy and a lot more expensive than what Hermione used.

"Welcome." Draco's voice sounded low, and smooth as the drink that he was currently enjoying. Ginny fought the fire in her cheeks as she felt his eyes gliding over her. She made her way to the arm chair to the side of the sofa he was seated upon, settling herself there.

She fought her attraction to the former Slytherin as she did so, noting that he was wearing a pair of low-slung black slacks, and an equally dark button down shirt that lay open enough so that his pale skin shone between the edges. His feet were bare, and that seemed more intimate to Ginny then his relaxed sprawl.

His flat reminded her of its owner in a lot of ways. It was very large, very tastefully decorated, yet flaunted incredible wealth with very little warmth in the bare walls, and floors.

"I didn't really have much choice in being here, did I?" she replied to him with very little expression in her carefully controlled voice.

"Oh, there is always a choice." His words caressed her senses in a way that made her shiver. "You may blame me all you like, but you always had a choice."

Ginny snorted, and glared at him even as a delicate mug appeared on the low table between them, quickly filling with silky black liquid.

Inclining her head slightly in a mockery of gratitude, Ginny reached for her coffee, holding it in both hands.

Draco took a sip of his brandy, swirling the delicate liquid around in the bottom of the large glass as he noted just how close the colour was to that of the eyes of the woman sitting almost directly across from him.

"So, I was summoned here, because…?"

Draco smiled slowly at Ginny's caustic comment. "Is it not enough for me to enjoy the pleasure of your company? To want to spend time with you?"

"You always do that." Ginny shook her head, trying to figure out the enigmatic man that she had pledged a year of her life to. "You never answer a question fully. You always answer a question with a question."

"Knowledge is power." Draco murmured, not taking his eyes off of her delicate features. "Trite but true."

"How paranoid of you."

He smirked. "How naïve of you."

"I am not naïve," she countered hotly, taking a sip of the bitter drink in her hands. Her eyes shot back to his as she realized that it was lightened and sweet the exact way that she preferred.

He arched a pale eyebrow at her, before asking, "are you not?"

Deciding to ignore that provocative comment, Ginny took another sip of her coffee, noticing out of the corner of her eye the way the Draco watched her lick a stray drop from the rim of the mug. His eyes darkened from the slumberous silver, to a stormy grey.

"I had an owl from St. Mungo's today," Draco drawled smoothly, letting his words slide over Ginny almost sensuously. "They were quite impressed with our generosity."

"Our?" It was Ginny's turn to arch an eyebrow, somewhat surprised that he had heard of her little act of rebellion so quickly. "There was no 'our' about it."

"Hmm." Draco made a noncommittal noise as he took another slow sip of his brandy, his lips moving provocatively against the delicate glass. Ginny's breath hitched as her nipples tightened. "They seemed to think that it was a joint donation that you had made. You have to admit, the assumption is not too far off the mark. My money, your donation."

He looked at her over his glass before continuing, "it will be interesting to see what the media makes of this."

"It was too much like payment," Ginny said flatly, "and it was far too much money."

"Evidently." Draco moved his eyes over her like a slow caress that she felt to her bones. "Let me know anytime you wish to make a charitable donation."

"Oh, you're such a philanthropist then?" was her cutting, disbelieving, retort. She was slightly irritated that he was not more upset at the loss of that amount of money. It had been more galleons than most families saw in a year, and he had given it to her as a month's 'allowance'.

His pale hair shone as he inclined his head in agreement, causing Ginny to notice the luxurious texture that she had not realized was loose to his shoulders.

"You carry prejudices around like a favourite toy," he murmured so softly that she leaned forward to get closer to the intimate tone before she realized what exactly she was doing. His teeth glinted as he flashed a hungry grin at her, and she quickly rocked back in her chair.

"Prejudices?" She tilted her head to one side, her index finger at the corner of her lips in a mockery of a thoughtful expression. "Prejudices? Draco Malfoy deigns to speak to me of prejudices? How amusing."

"Astoundingly so," he agreed readily over the rim of his glass.

Ginny sneered. "You are the last person who should be speaking to anyone about the ills of prejudice. You and your blood-purity mania."

"Oh Ginny," he shook his head wonderingly, "so full of passion, and yet still you do not know what you speak of."

"I know enough."

"Do you now?" She shivered at the way his eyes gleamed around his last question, his tone drawing a naughty double-entendre that she did not want to acknowledge.

Turning away, she focused on a small portrait of an astonishingly beautiful pale blonde woman that sat next to a reading lamp in the corner. Catching her eyes, Ginny froze as she realized she was looking at Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother.

"Your mother?" she asked the unnecessary question, hoping to steer Draco away from whatever had his eyes smouldering like that.

He answered in the affirmative, making no other sound or movement save his continued perusal of her small form, which was currently engulfed by an obscene amount of cotton and polyester.

"She was so beautiful," Ginny breathed, getting up to take a closer look of the enigmatic woman, so intent on the small portrait that she barely heard Draco's hissed correction of the past tense.

Narcissa Malfoy was sitting so still in her frame, that Ginny wondered for a split second whether she was actually looking at a Muggle portrait. It was only the slight movement of her eyes, the clenching of her white fingers that gave her away.

Ginny tried smiling, and greeted her in a quiet, respectful voice. This gained the slightest incline Mrs. Malfoy's head in a gesture eerily similar to that of her son.

"You take after your mother quite a bit," she remarked to Draco, still staring at the vision in front of her. Frowning slightly, she wondered out loud, "I had always thought that you were a mirror-image of your father."

Draco rested his head against the soft leather of the sofa, and let his eyes shut. This was not really what he wanted to think about at this time.

Ginny turned back to the sofa, and her breath caught as she took in the sight in front of her.

Draco looked completely spread out like a delectable offering, his pale throat offering almost unbearable temptation with the way his head was resting.

His shirt had fallen open even more, and Ginny could see the tight, lean muscles that made up his chest, as well as the faint pink of one of his nipples. A sparse amount of pale, golden hair, slightly darker than that on the top of his head, drew a path from his navel to where his slacks hung on his tight hips.

His head suddenly lifted, and his eyes sought and caught her own in their frank perusal. The corners of his lips curled slightly in a mockery of a smile as he beckoned her forward with a movement of his free hand.

"Touch me," he invited in a silky voice.

Ginny stared at him before licking her bottom lip, her mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry. His eyes watched the movement with a flattering lack of subtlety.

"Touch me." It was no longer quite the invitation that it had been, his voice compelling as she seemed to drown in his eyes, the mercury surface sliding over her.

Her fingers flexed and shook in the need to see if all of that bare skin was as smooth as it seemed, if the lines of muscle were as true as they seemed. She ached to find out if he would react to her touch, if she had as much power over him as he did over her, even if it was just in this relatively unimportant arena.

She took a step forward.

A/N: Hi All!! Thank you again for reviewing.. .I am absolutely floored... I'm giddy when I read a new review. I did get my first anonymous abusive review though... which I deleted, but if I continue to see them, I might have to take off the ability to review anonymously. I really REALLY don't want to, cuz I know it's a hassle to sometimes sign up for all of these sites, and so on. Plus, ff has the most irritating sign in, and ads now.

Anyway, to answer a couple of FAQs. First, I don't really want Draco's POV to have too much presence in this story until closer to the ending. I want the reader to not really know what he is up to, along with Ginny. He's going to be mysterious, you're just going to have to deal with it, I guess... heheh...

Ginny did acquise really easily to him, but trust me... she is not a little lamb. She's a trouper. You'll see more of why she did what she did, and other pressures that are on her, both external and internal.

Thank you again so much for all of the interest!!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Ginny watched the last box of her belongings disappear with a 'pop' before she looked around her flat once more to make sure she hadn't left anything that she would miss. Well, it was also to just look around her home once more before she moved in with Draco.

Hell, it was quite possible that he would be sick of her within a week. He really didn't seem like the type who was able to make a commitment of that length to one woman. Ginny scowled at the thought that she might be one of many at once.

The night before, she had gone out with Daphne and Hermione, hoping to get her mind off of what was about to happen. It had gone well… until they had passed by the entrance of _The Truffle_ and Hermione had spotted a distinctive pale head amidst the endless stream of media that Ginny had found covered the distance from the apparition point to the front doors.

"Ginny, isn't that Malfoy?" Hermione grabbed her friend's arm, pulling her back on the precariously high heels that Daphne had forced on her earlier in the evening. Ginny stumbled slightly, but her eyes shot up unwillingly to catch a glimpse of where Hermione was motioning.

"It is…" Ginny's voice trailed off as she noticed that he was not alone. Daphne, sensing that she was now walking alone to their destination, stopped, and made her way back to where her two friends stood staring at the melee of reporters and celebrities.

Ginny felt numb as she took in the beautiful black-haired woman that Draco had his arm around. The couple smiled briefly for the cameras before being whisked inside, and Ginny's stomache muscles clenched at the sight.

Tall and willowy, the other woman was a startling contrast to Draco's pale masculine beauty, and she was dressed the part in a perfectly accessorized gown and dress robes that looked like they cost more than Ginny made in a year. She was everything Ginny wasn't.

Daphne, finally making out just what her friends were looking at with some surprise, had to ask, "why are the two of you staring at Draco?"

"No reason," Hermione rushed to reassure her, cutting her eyes to Ginny's pale face. She could have been wrong, she mused to herself, perhaps there was something between Malfoy and her friend. Ginny looked… wounded at what she had just seen.

"Who is she?" Ginny barely recognized her own voice, it came from so far away, and so faint that she was somewhat surprised that Daphne, who answered her question, heard her.

Exchanging a glance with Hermione, Daphne told her, "that's Pansy Parkinson. They're best friends. I've rarely seen one without the other since we were all in nappies."

"Really," Ginny said tightly. Noticing the looks her friends were giving her, she took a deep breath and attempted to get herself under control. "We need to get going if we want to make our dinner reservations."

"Sounds good." Hermione tightened her grip on Ginny's slender arm, and continued in the direction they had been heading. Daphne frowned, knowing that she was missing something, but followed them.

"I've heard some really interesting things about this place," Ginny babbled, trying desperately to change the subject.. "Parvatti Patil opened it a few months ago." She gestured at the small West Indies restaurant that they were walking towards.

They were still seated there several hours later, indulging in the decadent pastries and deserts that the proprietor herself had served them, when Daphne spoke up about what had happened earlier.

"What's going on with you and Draco, Gin?"

Ginny paused with her fork about an inch from her lips, before putting the utensil back on the table. She had been trying to ignore thoughts of the blond git.

She looked over at Hermione, who raised her eyebrows and motioned to Daphne in a _well, get to it_ gesture. Locking eyes with their friend, Ginny was startled to see a little bit of hurt behind Daphne's well-executed neutral expression.

"Oh Daph," Ginny sighed, unsure how to tell her. "Draco and I are together. We are supposed to be moving in together this weekend."

"You and Draco?" Daphne shook her head. "Is this some kind of joke? Ha ha?"

"No joke," Hermione answered her dryly, again slanting a look at Ginny.

"Rather sudden…"

"Well, you know how it is." Ginny smiled brightly, and shrugged her shoulders while downing the large glass of red wine that had accompanied their dinner.

"No, actually, I don't," Daphne informed her, confused. "Please, do tell."

"For the love of Merlin," Ginny growled briefly in the back of her throat, already sick of explaining herself to all of the people within her inner circle. "We're together, I'm moving in with him, end of story."

Daphne looked taken aback for a moment, before her face closed over in frosty neutrality, her voice laden with sarcasm as she spoke, "I see."

The rest of the meal would have been spent in silence were it not for Hermione's efforts at inane conversation. Ginny stared at her plate, pushing the rice around with her fork, alternating between feeling guilty for blowing off her friend, and irritated by the constant questions. Daphne appeared to be completely at ease, looking around at artwork that adorned the walls.

After awhile, even Hermione petered out, and the rest, as they say, was silence.

It was not the greatest girl's night out that the three had ever had, Ginny reflected sourly as she swept the floor in her kitchen without magic, needing something physical to keep her mind off of things.

Loathe to go to her new 'home', Ginny decided to go to the office, to look over the latest paperwork that her team had put together during the week prior.

A mandatory dinner was scheduled for eight that evening with Draco, but she had plenty of time until then. Plus, she was still very upset about seeing him with Pansy, and she really did not know what to do with those feelings. They seemed very out-of-place with what she should be feeling.

She sat staring at paperwork for hours until her eyes started to cross, and she rubbed at them in aggravation. Really, some wizards had no idea just how bad their handwriting really was.

Deciding to take a break, Ginny made her way across the deserted office into the small kitchenette and tearoom off to one side. BFW was also a client of _Magically Yours_, with the small icebox filled with sandwiches and juices for the various employees.

Ginny helped herself to a small bottle of pumpkin juice, and sat down to read the old copy of _The Prophet_ that had been overlooked by the cleaning charms on the corner table.

Draco Malfoy's image leapt out at her from the first page, and Ginny sighed. Did that man really deserve an above-the-fold for simply making money? He was officially everywhere she turned.

Unable to help herself, Ginny shook the paper open, noting that it was from at least a month prior when she had been away on business to Scotland meeting with Oliver Wood. In fact, that had been only a few weeks before Draco had put his little proposition to her.

For once, the article was not about the notorious wizard's personal life, and for that, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. It was actually about the Malfoy Media Conglomerate extension of Malfoy Enterprises, and it was purely about the shareholder meeting that had been held.

Someone had leaked to the press that the board was not confident in Malfoy's leadership.

Ginny's brows snapped together as she read on. Malfoy Enterprises itself was a private company, answerable only to a very small board of directors, and they had complete faith it appeared in Draco. The Media Conglomerate though, was only about forty-nine percent Malfoy's. The rest was owned by a very elite, and very traditional group of shareholders.

Ginny swept through the article, fascinated by this peak inside Malfoy's world, fascinated that Malfoy might not be as perfect as he had always appeared to her.

The article detailed how the small group of shareholders felt that Draco was too young to be running the company, and the fact that his reputation throughout the wizarding community contributed to their lack of faith in him.

Alfred Curmudgeon, a member of this group, was even quoted as saying that, "Mr. Malfoy is indeed a very good business man, but we feel that he is far too young, and not stable enough to be running this company. Do we really want our CEO to be gracing the pages of our newspapers for nothing more than the ability to bed every available, and sometimes unavailable, female? No indeed!"

This went against everything that Ginny had thought about Draco's absolute control over his assets. The shareholders were to vote on Draco's future as their CEO during the last financial quarter of the year, which would happen in the next January. It was a tenuous position for Draco to be in, and Ginny was in disbelief that one of the Conglomerate's own papers had run the story. And that she had missed it.

Looking to the picture, Draco was looking absolutely expressionless as he swept past the photographer to a nearby apparition point, his blond hair shining in the dim winter sunlight. His lithe figure was perfectly outlined by expensive robes, and he held a leather briefcase almost carelessly in one capable hand.

Ginny wondered what all of what she had read meant. It was true that the wizarding community as a whole was quite old-fashioned and traditional, and that the populace in general would not look kindly upon the amount of attention Draco Malfoy would get for his personal life. It seemed, though, like a complete paradox to the man that she had now encountered upon numerous occasions.

The Draco Malfoy she knew seemed to have everything in hand, to be in complete and utter control at all moments. It was startling to realize that he might not be. She actually felt a little bit of sympathy for him. It was his family's business, and a group of disapproving old men were trying to remove him from his position of power not based on his business skills, but on his personal life.

Sipping at her pumpkin juice, Ginny continued through the paper, making a note of how BFW's older advertisements looked in the pages. Almost absentmindedly she spotted what worked, and what didn't work in the glossy pictures.

Draco Malfoy was in the midst of possibly being pushed out of one of his family's biggest companies. The thought kept running through her head.

Finally, Ginny gave up all pretences of reading the rest of the paper, and just stared out the window, charmed to look as though the sky was sunny, and the grass was green, instead of the dismal winter weather.

It was with a start that she realized that the time had gotten away with her, and she muttered an oath as the wall clock chimed eight. She was officially late.

She stumbled into Draco's flat, slightly out of breath from her run to the public floo a little ways away from her office. It was the only floo still open at that time of night on a weekend to boot.

The flat was dark, lit only by a few candles placed around the large room, and Ginny's breath hitched as Draco's large frame appeared in a doorway down the hall.

He seemed to blend with the darkness of the apartment, dressed in black slacks and a short-sleeved black shirt that fit him well enough to make Ginny's mouth water at the thought of the pale muscled surface beneath. The paleness of his skin and hair threw him into stark relief, and emphasised the almost feminine beauty of his fallen-angel features.

Seeing Draco reminded Ginny of the night before, with Pansy on his arm, as well as the new information she had read earlier of his Media Conglomerate. There was some very mixed emotions swirling around in her head at the moment.

It also reminded her of the last time she had been in this apartment. Her nipples hardened as she thought back on that.

"Generally," Draco drawled silkily with little expression, though giving off the impression that he was not pleased, "when I invite a guest to dine, the hour given is the hour expected."

Any sympathy she had for him was failing fast in the disdainful undertones she could hear in his smooth voice.

"Well, I do like to be original." Ginny smiled brightly, determined, yet again, to not let him get to her.

He looked over her baggy jumper and jeans that had definitely seen better days. "Clearly."

Ginny flushed as he motioned an elegant hand to the dining area at the far end of the room. His flat was very open-planned with the exception of the bedrooms, and the London skyline twinkled through the many windows.

Seating herself gingerly in a beautiful dark wood and leather chair, Ginny stared out the window nearest. There was something almost hypnotizing about the electrical lights outside. She was, quite frankly, unused to the sight, not spending that much time in Muggle London.

Apparently, that was about to change.

Draco seated himself across from her, his eyes flashing, catching her gaze. "A drink?"

"Wine, please." Ginny hated that the etiquette lessons she had received as a child, drilled into her by her mother, would not allow her to be even the slightest bit rude to Malfoy.

He waved a hand carelessly, and a bottle appeared over her setting, pouring a steady, soundless, stream of red into her glass before doing the same to his.

Ginny watched as he picked up his glass by the stem, holding it almost carelessly in his long fingers.

"To…" he drawled, trailing off, his eyes intent upon her face, "to getting what one wants."

"I won't drink to that."

"I will." He smiled slowly, the edges of his lips curling ever-so-slightly, making Ginny shift in her seat as heat unfurled low in her belly, before taking a slow, deliberate sip of his wine. "Delicious."

Ginny stared at him stonily, though with a hidden great interest, as he touched his tongue to the edge of his lips, before looking back out the window.

There was a tingle of anticipation running through her as she knew what the logical conclusion to this evening would be. The thought also terrified her. What if she had made the biggest mistake of her life?

Ginny did eventually start drinking her wine with her supper, deciding it would be best to be as inebriated as possible for the evening ahead. From the gleam in his eyes, Draco knew exactly what she was doing, but he made no move to stop her.

Damn his eyes.

"I feel as though we should make small talk of some kind," he remarked, looking not entirely concerned with conversation, after an age of silence on both of their parts.

"Indeed," she agreed promptly, causing him to raise one eyebrow. "Shall we talk about how you are being cast out of your own company?"

Oh yes, she had enjoyed the wine greatly.

Draco's face remained expressionless, but his eyes fairly glowed with an emotion that Ginny could not quite put a name to. When he spoke, it was with an edge that gave her chills. "Really, kitten? You want to speak business when there are so many other pleasurable topics at hand?"

She made a very childish face at him before swallowing the last mouthful of her second… or third glass of wine.

"Oh, yes," she agreed when her mouth was free. Again, he looked slightly surprised, but then amused at her acceptance of that. "We could talk about your date last night."

His smirk widened as he caught the raw anger apparent in her voice. "We could."

"Was she any good?" Where was this facetiousness coming from? Ginny could hear herself, but she couldn't stop her mouth from opening and saying exactly what she was thinking.

Amusement was now clear on Draco's face as he chuckled softly. "In what capacity, love?"

"If you need to ask, it couldn't have been that good a date."

Draco's eyes widened minutely before he tipped his head back and laughed out loud. Ginny stared at him. She had never really heard him laugh before, she realized. It was nice… It seemed like it was the one time he had never had iron control over just how much of himself he allowed her to see.

"You do amuse me." His eyes were still gleaming as he picked up his utensils to finish the excellent roast on his plate.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. He made her sound like a toy sometimes. She took back her almost-charitable thoughts of his control slipping.

Throughout the meal, she still seemed to drink more than she ate, and by the end of desert, she was pleasantly soused. Soused, and telling Malfoy about a time at the Burrow, a few years prior, when she and Harry had still been together.

"And there we were…" she paused to giggle, remembering the look on Harry's face, "sitting in the middle of my backyard, with Harry's pants near the rosebushes, and George, Fred, and Percy trying not to see anything, and yet still trying to hex him."

Ginny burst out laughing. "We still haven't found the corner of Percy's eyebrow! They completely missed Harry, but he went running into the house to get away from them, and went flying into my mum."

Draco's lips curled slightly as he watched his inebriated dinner guest.

Deciding that it was now a good time to tell him about some of the pranks she had pulled on Ron in Hogwarts, Ginny continued on, "and of course, Ron was a tremendous prat about everything. Merlin, he used to drive me mad. One day, I hexed all of his quills to look like spiders- he's quite terrified of the things, you understand. Well, you should have heard him screaming! Hermione kept trying to help him, but he was just too hysterical!"

Ginny leaned forward, laughing and trying to catch her breath. She stopped laughing abruptly when her forehead met the food still lingering on her plate. "Oh dear. I've made a mess of myself."

This too, was found hilarious. Draco handed her the handkerchief from one of his pockets, and she tried to wipe away the strawberry comfit that had formerly graced a delicate crepe. Instead, it seemed to make it's way into her hair with her efforts. "Oh, dash it all!"

In what seemed to be a blink of the eye, Draco was beside her, helping her out of her seat, and firmly wiping her face clean. Ginny swayed, still amazed at how quickly he had moved, and quite intent on telling him so.

In a moment of clarity amid her drunken state, Ginny leaned into him, a small hand touching the side of his face hesitantly. "Malfoy? You were joking, right?"

"About?" He arched a golden eyebrow, grasping her tightly around the waist before she could fall to the floor.

"Wanting me." She felt waves of self-pity wash over her. "No one wants me. Buggering Harry Potter, bloody Oliver Wood… Dean… Seamus…"

Draco simply stared down at her, as if unable to look away, as he picked a stray strawberry out of her hair. "I do not make a habit of lying."

"No, you just avoid the question."

Smiling grimly at Ginny's plainly spoken statement, Draco scooped up her small frame, holding her tightly in the air.

"Oh." Ginny snuggled her head under his chin. She breathed in his familiar, spicy scent appreciatively before announcing, "Malfoy? I think I'm going to be sick."

Ginny woke up with a foul taste in her mouth, and a long male body stretched out next to her, invading her personal space.

"I believe we have done this before." Draco's lips curled at the corners as he reached out a hand to smooth a lone crimson curl away from her forehead. Ginny closed her eyes again, willing her meal from the night before to stay put.

"I must admit, that was not quite how I had envisioned last night happening," he continued, running his thumb across her cheekbone to her delicate jaw.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I ruin all of your girlish fantasies?" Ginny snapped, unable to move away from the seductive caress, and yet irritated by it.

"Something like that." Draco's low drawl trickled across her senses. "I had hoped to spend last night with you bouncing on my cock, moaning, your pink nipples all swollen and wet, but it appears that the alcohol held greater sway."

Ginny drew in a ragged breath as she locked eyes with him. He was lounging on his side, watching her with intently hungry eyes.

She dragged her gaze away, only to encounter a startling amount of pale flesh, unmarred by even the slightest blemish. Her cheeks felt hot as she realized that it was very likely that Draco Malfoy was only wearing the white sheet that covered them both.

That really brought about the question of what she herself was clothed in. Not much was her initial thought. Dreading what she would see, Ginny looked down at herself, lifting the cover just enough to see, but not enough to completely compromise Draco's modesty… or lack thereof.

Ginny sighed in relief as her sensible white cotton bra and matching knickers made an appearance to her wide caramel eyes.

"Ginny…" Her head shot back up to collide with silver eyes at Draco's low murmur. "I want you to be more than awake and sober when I finally take you."

"And here I thought you didn't have any scruples." She closed her eyes again, and rolled away from him to lay on her side.

At the light touch on the curve of her hip, Ginny tensed slightly, before relaxing as he simply rested his hand there, warming her skin.

She tensed again as she felt him lean in close, so close she could feel his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. "It has nothing to do with scruples, kitten, and all to do with pleasure."

A/N: I know... I'm late again... I think I will be updating once every two weeks from here out. :) thank you so much for all of the interest and reviews!! I love reading what everyone thinks... and this is a fun story to write!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Ginny woke up again, not even realizing that she had fallen back to sleep. This time, there was no Draco Malfoy leaning over her. She looked over at the vacant side of the bed, and inexplicably felt a little bit upset at the loss.

She sat up, relieved that her hangover had subsided somewhat. She also realized, by the position of the sun out the large window, that it was much later than she would have liked.

The room that she had woken in was one that she had never before seen, though it was quite obvious that it was the master bedroom in Draco's large flat. Decorated in creams and indigo, it spoke of quiet luxury, and almost sterility in it's cleanliness and lack of personal affects. Ginny thought wistfully of her own bedroom, alive in reds and oranges reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room. The two spaces could not be more different, and it simply highlighted to her how they did not belong together.

She did like the soft white cotton sheets though. She also liked what was quite possibly the most comfortable bed that she had ever felt. The pillows were nice too, she conceded grudgingly to herself.

Making her way across the large bedroom, she pulled on what she assumed was the oversized shirt that had previously belonged to George that she wore to sleep.

The faintest scent of coffee was tantalizing her senses, and she found the door and followed her nose to the large kitchen where the thick black liquid was burbling happily in a single large mug on the sleek countertop.

"Good morning." Draco's voice alerted her to the fact that she was not alone, and Ginny whirled around to see him seated casually at the dining room table. They stared at each other over the counter that separated the two rooms for a long moment before Ginny turned back to her newly-poured cup of coffee.

Ginny blinked rapidly, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the knowledge that she was now living with Draco Malfoy. Living in the same space, sleeping in the same bed. It had just been hit home with force.

She wished she was wearing something a little bit more substantial.

Wrapping both hands around the warm mug, Ginny turned back to her antagonist, only to realize that there was a large possibility that he had forgotten about her presence in favour of the morning's paper. It was slightly anticlimactic.

She sipped at the strong brew, exactly how she liked it which made her wonder what else Draco Malfoy knew about her, while unabashedly studying the lean man in front of her.

Only his torso and upper body were visible over the counter, but it was quite enough to make Ginny stare, and unconsciously lick her lips.

He was dressed a lot more decently than she was, that much was certain. A crisp white shirt hung elegantly from his broad shoulders, accentuating their breadth, and a silvery pin-striped suit jacket lay on the chair back beside him, thrown there by a careless hand.

His appearance actually made Ginny remember watching Draco and Pansy heading into that restaurant the other night, and she wondered at exactly what that was all about. She decided, after much thought, that she was not jealous. No, jealousy indicated a feeling of caring about the object that that emotion was aimed towards. Ginny definitely did not feel anything near to caring about Draco Malfoy.

Draco took a last sip of his own coffee, before straightening the grey tie around his neck, and reaching for the jacket. His eyes happened to catch Ginny's, and again, they both stared.

Ginny had no idea what he saw when he looked at her, but in the next moment, he was standing in front of her, forcing the mug from her boneless fingers with one hand to place on the counter behind her, as he speared the fingers of the other into her bedraggled hair.

Looking up into eyes that had darkened to an almost black, Ginny struggled to breath. There was something so incredibly strong between them, so powerful.

As he fitted his long powerful body to hers, Ginny gasped as she felt his hardness prodding against her stomache. An answering flame burst into being at the crux of her thighs, and Draco smothered a groan as she instinctively shifted against him, trying to relieve some of the pressure that was building.

In the next second, his lips crashed down upon her own, and Ginny found herself forced up on her toes to meet the almost brutal kiss.

Draco seized the opportunity and wrapping an arm around Ginny's waist, lifted her slight frame onto the counter, sending the forgotten mug of coffee flying in his haste.

Ginny spread her legs wide as Draco moved even closer. Closer than he had really ever been to her, and yet it still felt like he was not close enough.

His palms made contact with her upper thighs, fingertips skimming the edge of her panties, and Draco yanked her even closer, close enough that he was nestled against her most intimate parts.

Opening her mouth on a moan, Ginny instead groaned as Draco's sharp teeth found the side of her neck, biting her with an almost painful passion. Her own small hand made its way to the back of his head, and with a quick yank on the customary leather thong there, his hair fell around his face allowing her to bury her fingers in the soft, pale strands.

Draco's long fingers flexed compulsively on the soft skin of her legs before stroking small patterns just under the fabric of her panties, driving Ginny wild.

She arched her hips slightly, trying to entice him to where she wanted him, but he resisted, instead smoothing his hands up her torso under his shirt which he had noticed that she wore so well.

Ginny growled in frustration, before dragging Draco's mouth away from it's tormenting of the sensitive spots on her neck, to her mouth.

Emboldened by her raging desire, Ginny threw herself into the kiss, her tongue eagerly entering his mouth, tasting the coffee he had been drinking and something indefinable that was so clearly _him_. Draco growled, and his hands curved around the back of her neck, holding her close as he let her have her way.

It wasn't enough. Ginny frantically pushed a hand between their two bodies, searching blindly for the zipper of his slacks, only to be thwarted as Draco forced her hand to her side.

"Not yet…" Draco murmured in her ear at her whimper of frustration. It was enough to snap Ginny back into reality, from the haze of desire that she had been under, long enough to question just how much she was cooperating with him.

He moved his lips down to the pulse point throbbing at the side of her neck, and suckled the soft skin there. Ginny arched her head back, wanting more of the delicious feelings that the tall blond man in front of her inspired.

Draco's large hand moved from it's maddening caresses of the soft skin of her navel, back down to the little white panties that she still wore. He pulled back to stare into her bright eyes, holding her gaze easily as he slipped the cotton material aside and plunged one long finger into her warm, welcoming body.

It wasn't until Ginny gasped at the invasion of her body that she realized she had been holding her breath as she watched Draco's silver eyes. When that became too intense, Ginny moved her gaze to his chest, noticing that he was still fully clothed in his fine button down shirt, his tie still lying perfectly flat and straight.

Her eyes curled back up in her head as Draco's finger started to move, his thumb brushing against her clit with every long, sure stroke.

"Look at me, Ginny." His voice was low, seductive, and Ginny dragged open passion-glazed eyes to see him still watching her face, a slight flush darkening his well-formed cheekbones, his eyes slate-grey.

He paused long enough to push another finger deep inside of her, causing Ginny to moan low in the back of her throat, before she could control herself.

"That's it, Gin…" he murmured, curling his fingers forward, hitting a spot deep inside of her that made her see stars. "Let me hear you. I want to hear you scream."

"No…" Ginny bit her lower lip around the word, determined not to let Draco see just how much he was affecting her. She gasped as he flicked her clit hard with his fingernail, the flash of pain heightening the extreme pleasure that she was feeling.

"Yes." He spoke almost in a whisper before tugging at the shirt she was still wearing. "Take this off."

Ginny stared at him, wanting him to touch her even more, but not willing to just do as he commanded. There was still a part of her, even now, that hated the thought of not rebelling.

Draco stared at her, his eyelids lowered to half-mast, before he grabbed her wand from where she had placed it on the counter, and her clothing disappeared. Ginny yelped, both from the sensation of her clothing disappearing, and Draco introducing a third finger into her tight quim.

"Don't fight me," Draco warned in a low drawl, moving his hand hard enough to make Ginny gasp, before trying to move her hips closer.

Draco's head swooped down to find one hard nipple, and he suckled there as he pumped his fingers faster.

Ginny fought to control her breathing, feeling as if she was running a losing race… or winning it, the two extremes were becoming quite muddled in her current state. Her fingers closed around his wrist, seeking to either stop him, or help him, and she simply held on, feeling her hips moving in time with his movements.

"I want you," she gasped, giving up the battle. "I want you."

"I know," Draco's lips curved in a sly smile against the pink skin of her nipple right before he twisted his hand in such a way that Ginny would later swear she saw stars.

Ginny cried out as she came, hard, still holding onto Draco's wrist, her nails digging in semi-circles that would bruise the pale skin later.

Breathing heavily, Ginny stared at Draco's impassive face, feeling a sense of shame wash over her as she realized just how little he had been affected. Removing her hand with a little effort, Ginny clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to work the blood back into them.

She gasped, a sound which sounded like a scream in the suddenly still kitchen, as Draco pulled his hand back slowly, his fingers sliding out easily. Ginny looked down at herself, at her swollen nipples, the wetness that coated her inner thighs, how the muscles in her stomache were still contracting with the force of her orgasm, humiliation and anger flooded through her.

Draco stepped back, smirking at her ever so slightly, and raised his hand to his mouth, licking one finger with precision. His pale eyebrows lifted, as if in a silent dare as he spoke, "delicious."

Ginny's toes curled, though her face burned.

Later, Ginny stared at the fireplace that connected with the Floo network in a moment of indecision. It seemed so much easier to just… not go. Not answer the questions that she knew were inevitable. To miss the weekly Weasley dinner though, without a proper letter of excuse from either the hospital, or the morgue, would be to bring the family matriarch's wrath down upon herself.

So she stood and stared at the fireplace. Feeling a distinct presence behind her, Ginny looked over her shoulder to see Draco leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, looking the very picture of careless elegance.

He had changed upon his return home from his sojourn to the office, Ginny noted absently, to dark jeans, and a black long-sleeved shirt. It again shocked her to see him barefoot, and looking so casual.

"Something wrong?" he inquired softly, one pale eyebrow quirked as he watched her.

"No," she answered in the negative. At his skeptical look, her shoulders slumped slightly. "Yes, actually."

Draco remained silent, making Ginny wonder. Generally, with her friends and family, they pushed her to answer questions about her unease, to talk about each and every feeling, but it was obvious that Draco was not like that.

Ginny finally spoke, her eyes shifting to watch the darkened London skyline out the window as she did so. "I have to go to supper at my folks'."

"How heartwarming." Was his caustic reply.

Ginny frowned at him. "I don't especially want to go."

"I couldn't say I blame you."

"But I have to," she finished, ignoring his snarky comment.

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated. Her eyes shot to his, noting his lack of expression. "Because I have to."

"You don't have to do anything," he stated in his silky drawl, pushing himself away from the doorframe to peruse the books on one of the shelves near the corner of the room.

Ginny watched him, irritated at his nonchalance. "I suppose you wouldn't understand about such a thing as family obligation."

"You see your family as an obligation?" He didn't turn to her as he spoke, sounding as if he was already slightly bored with the conversation.

Ginny admired the strong lines of his back, the play of muscles through his shirt, remembering just what had happened earlier in the kitchen. She shook herself, feeling pleasure and humiliation burn through her once again.

"That's not what I meant."

"That is what you said though." He drew his strong, pale fingers along one of the book spines, and Ginny shivered as she felt the caress on her own skin. She shook her head, trying to get back the thread of the conversation they had been engaged in.

"Why are you baiting me?" Ginny asked, amazed that it had taken her this long to realize his tactics.

Draco turned to look at her after that comment, his chosen reading material held lightly in one hand. "Bait you, love?"

"Bait me," Ginny said decisively, ignoring his look of slight amusement.

He smirked slightly, tossing his book onto the low coffee table as he passed.

"Ginny, I do not bait you. I treat you as one adult would another."

She snorted derisively, not liking the smile that was now curving his lips. Watching him approach her, she straightened her spine in an effort to give herself some semblance of physical equality with the wizard. He reminded her of a large cat, stalking it's prey.

Draco raised a pale hand as he moved within her personal space, and thrust it into Ginny's bound hair, tracing her full lips with the tip of his tongue. She winced slightly at the pain that this movement caused, before opening her mouth at his insistent demands.

She lost herself in the taste of him, hating herself for enjoying being this close to him. His hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer as his other hand traced down her side to rest on her lower back.

Ginny closed her eyes slowly, the feelings running through her too all-encompassing to ignore. Her hands clutched at his trim waist as she tried to get closer.

Once again, Draco set her back, just as he had done earlier in the day, his lips curving into the familiar smirk once more. His eyes penetrated her own to a degree that she couldn't see anything but mercury.

Ginny shook her head impatiently, trying to get rid of the feeling that he was everywhere, while at the same time she was reminded of what he had said to her earlier that morning, about what he was going to do to her the next time she was in his bed.

He turned, and without a backward glance, grabbed up his book, and disappeared down the hall. Unconsciously, Ginny licked her lips, tasting the last remnants of Draco's now-familiar taste on her lips. She grimaced at the shot of pleasure that arrowed through her, before turning, and stepping over the fire grate.

"The Burrow."

--

Ginny poked at her pudding listlessly, trying to get up some more enthusiasm for the family dinner. It wasn't working.

From the moment she had arrived, she had been lambasted from every direction over Draco bloody Malfoy. Thankfully, for once, Ron wasn't present, as it was one of his weekends with Jamie, who happened to be ill.

Ginny felt a little bad that she felt not all-together upset about her young nephew's illness.

The family seemed a little torn, though they all agreed that the move in had happened way too quickly. Molly Weasley was actually pleased that her daughter seemed to be 'settling down', though she did not fully approve of Draco. The twins and Percy seemed to be in staunch agreement that Draco was a git who had taken advantage of her.

It would have been amusing if it was happening to someone… anyone else. As it was, however, Ginny simply felt like her head would explode. She was afraid to ask her mother for a potion for the headache, as she had a tendency to overreact to these things. Her mother also, upon a particularly gruesome experiment of the twins, had locked the medical supply cabinet with a charm that only she could open.

Harry had been shooting Ginny concerned looks all evening, for which she was appreciative. She was not appreciative towards the fact that Fred and George had decided that their baby sister dating a Malfoy warranted match-making attempts which appeared to be aimed at her ex-fiancé.

Subsequently, he was seated on her right, while Hermione was on her left. Ella and Dean, lost in the shuffle of magical chairs at the main table, were both at the kid's table, and Ginny could see that Dean wasn't too upset about it. Currently, he was showing his daughter, and Percy's boys, how to pop peas out of their noses.

Ginny noticed that Hermione was quite determinedly not looking at her significant other, besides the occasional eye roll. Quite clearly, she was finding this moment of fatherly bonding not as amusing as her daughter.

Ginny ate a spoonful of her tiramisu, estimating the amount of time left before she could leave without incurring her mother's wrath further. Wrath, or questions about marriage or grandchildren.

"You know, I was sure that I saw Draco in the paper with that Parkinson girl." Ginny looked up at Percy's comment. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, nodding earnestly at George.

It appeared he and the twins, for once in their entire lives had joined forces.

"What? That ruddy bastard!" Fred's cheeks turned pink as he looked at his sister. "Ginny, you could do so much better. Look, the git isn't even waiting for the sheen to wear off."

Ginny sighed and propped her elbow on the table to support her head. "Honestly, they're just friends. They've been friends for years."

She hoped it was true. It seemed a little bit plausible. Although, why it should disturb her, the thought of Draco with someone else, was a little mystifying. She chose not to think on that fact.

"Friends?" George looked at her incredulously. "You can't believe that tripe! That's what a fella says about the bird he's… you know…" He motioned with his hands.

Hermione, trying to decipher the abstract movement, wondered out loud, "stirring?"

"Shagging!" George's comment was a little louder than he had meant it to be. The tips of his ears turned red as Molly lectured him, and Ella asked her mother from the other end of the room what her uncle George had meant.

Ginny sighed again as the room was shot into chaos. She noticed her father slip unnoticed from the table, probably to head to his workroom, and glared at his retreating back enviously. She really didn't give her father credit for bravery often enough. She was scared shitless to leave and have Molly notice.

It was late before Ginny made her way 'home'. It felt very strange to think of Draco's flat as such.

She made her way through the empty living areas, noting the Muggle lamp still lit on a side table near the fireplace, and walked to the bedroom that she had slept in the night before.

From the lingering lights of London, she could just see Draco sprawled across the bed. Her mouth watered as she realized that again, he was unclothed, and this time, not covered by the sheets.

All of that pale skin on display beckoned her, and she thought back to the evening a few nights prior when he had dared her to touch him. She had been so sorely tempted, but she had resisted the impulse, instead turning to leave even after his softly drawled "coward."

Shivering slightly in the chilly flat, Ginny wondered how Draco was able to withstand the cold with nothing between his perfect skin and the air.

She crept closer, helplessly drawn, to stare down at him.

His lips were slightly parted on a breath, and the pale pink of the soft skin beckoned her. One arm was thrown across the bed, as if seeking something, while the other rested lightly on his muscled navel. His hair was unbound, and shining against the pillows around his head in what she would have called a halo if she had never encountered his personality.

Ginny wondered, briefly then, how he came by such a physique. It seemed somewhat incongruous for a businessman. She realized, yet again, just how little she knew about the man on display in front of her.

The lines of his body were near to perfect. He was slim, but toned, and his body was incredibly well-proportioned. Ginny glanced down at where his… manhood… lay nestled against springy blond curls that were just a shade darker than the hair on his head.

She reached a hesitant hand out, and drew her fingers delicately across the skin of his hip, not quite touching the area she had just been admiring. His breath seemed to catch in his throat, but when she looked up at him worriedly he appeared to still be deep in slumber.

His skin was so soft… it didn't seem quite fair that a male possessed such amazing skin. She stared at where her fingers were tracing the muscles, noticing how the pale surface seemed to glow.

Her hand moved, as if of its own volition, to where his cock lay soft, and again, Ginny darted a quick glance to Draco's face to ensure that he was not secretly laying awake as she explored his body.

Ginny felt such an incredible freedom in being able to touch and watch Draco at her leisure, without his mocking gaze following her every movement. He seemed to exude charisma, and she felt drawn to him in a way that she had never felt before, despite his less-than-amazing morals and actions.

As she ran a finger down the length of the impossibly soft skin of his cock, she pulled her hand back with a silent gasp as it twitched, and hardened slightly.

Ginny had really only been with one other man, and she and Harry had been together for years before she had fully seen him naked. Draco had only blackmailed her a few weeks prior, and they were now at the physical stage that she and Harry had been at after two years of dating.

It worried Ginny just how easy it was to think about Draco blackmailing her.

It also brought about the question of why exactly he had done so. He obviously did not lack for female company, she thought with a tinge of bitterness. Why had he felt it so necessary to go to such lengths to have her in his bed? And if so, why had that not happened? She had practically melted for him earlier in the day, and he had walked away.

Ginny frowned, and shook her head. This moment was not one for reflexive thought. She had a large, sexy, male body in front of her, completely naked. He was also asleep, which was actually a very pleasant change from his usual sarcastic and caustic self.

Keeping a careful eye on his face, Ginny delicately wrapped her small fingers around his shaft and stroked it lightly up and down, watching it grow to its full impressive length. It was slowly turning a pale pink, almost shockingly bright against the extreme paleness of the rest of his skin.

Letting the loose skin sliding through her fingers, Ginny marveled at how such an organ could change so drastically in such a short period of time. She reached out her other hand to gently explore the globes hanging underneath, feeling their weight and texture with inquisitive fingers.

A drop of clear liquid spilled from the tip of Draco's cock as Ginny continued her stroking movement, and she glanced again at his still face as she ran the tip of her thumb through the wetness. She raised the same finger to her mouth, tasting the salty substance on her tongue.

She had never really tasted Harry there, and it was not altogether unpleasant. Ginny again ran her thumb over the tip of his hardness, jumping back when Draco suddenly moaned, and tossed his head in his sleep.

Draco's cheeks were flushed in such a way that Ginny knew to be arousal, but he remained deep in slumber. She had always thought that Ron was the deepest sleeper she had ever encountered, but it appeared that Draco won that distinction.

Even with that observation, Ginny felt strongly as though she were fully pushing her luck, so she quickly shed her clothing, and pulled the t-shirt she had worn that morning back over her head.

For one, stupid moment, she contemplated crawling into the bed beside Draco's sprawling form. It was an enthralling, though incredibly bad, idea. Ginny instead turned on her heel and set out to find if there was another bedroom in Draco's large flat.

A/N: Hi all! I hope you enjoyed this chapter... I always get sick of the guy taking advantage, and even in this story, I want Ginny to have her moments... :)

Someone asked me in a review (unsigned review, which is why I'm replying here... SIGN IN!! it helps me answer questions and such) why I had deleted an unsavoury review when I should be open to all criticisms. I am very open to constructive criticisms... constructive being the word. Reviews such as "I had trouble reading your story because of this this and this..." are fine... I can work with that. Anything that says, "I hate your story, you suck", I will delete, as that is just a flame. I don't quite understand why people feel the need to do that, as especially online, you can simply move away from the story if you wish. In the case that was mentioned, and unsigned review stated, for chapter 6, that I was a horrible person because I had perverted children's story characters, and that it was sick and twisted. Now, a few questions... first, how they had found the story to begin with. This story is on this website, under a strong M rating... you really have to search and know what you are looking for to find it. Second, they decide to say this on chapter 6... again, they stuck with it that long, with that sort of opinion?

It all strikes me as kind of amusing... but I will not tolerate flaming of my work. I will not tolerate flaming of other people's work. This is not my primary job, or even hobby... I do this simply because I enjoy it. I enjoy even more seeing what people think, but that does not mean I need to be a slave to those who are cyber-bullies. I generally feel that if you feel that you could not say something to another's face in person, then there is no place for it online either.

Sorry for the rant... I will strive to be my pleasant self from here out.

AGAIN, thank you to all who have been following this story... I'm loving writing it. Preview for next chapter: Draco might need to head off on a business trip, and some things get aired between he and Gin.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Ginny sat at her desk later the next day staring off into space. She had gotten a late start, and it had been something of a shock not be the first person at the office that morning. She honestly could not remember the last time that had happened.

It had also been surprising to realize that she had woken up, not in the ultra-modern and sparse bedroom that she had found after some exploration, but back in the master bedroom. Back in Draco's bed, and she had had no recollection of how she had gotten there. At least there had been no sign of the man himself besides the head-shaped indent in the pillow beside her.

She had rushed through her morning routine, spending long moments locating her clothing which had been stowed away, it seemed, in Draco's large walk-in closet.

His suits and clothing hung perfectly along one wall, the colours and fabrics inviting her gaze and touch, and Ginny cursed under her breath at the memory of how his very distinctive scent seemed to seep into her very pores.

Ginny pulled her work towards her with a decisive flick of her wrist, determined to let no more of her thoughts stray to Draco Malfoy. It was quite enough that he, for the moment, was such a large part of her life. It would not do to have him possess an equally large part of her mind.

Lunch was a hurried affair as Ginny bustled out of a meeting with Seamus' development team in time for her to apparate with Lavender to a meeting with Wood and his agent.

They arrived five minutes before they were due, and Ginny smoothed a hand over her hair, checking the charms that held it in it's customary chignon at the nape of her neck. Lavender sorted the documents they would need in her briefcase before nodding at her partner.

Together, they stepped into the large office. Though Ginny had been there before, she was still slightly taken aback by the sheer amount of orange that pervaded the space. A large poster of Wood in his Canon uniform took up one wall, and it was easy to see who Miss Evelyn Harper's star client was.

The woman herself, grinning easily at the duo, was seated on the edge of her desk, attired in dark denims, and a silk tunic shirt with the Canon logo discretely pinned to her collar. Oliver Wood was just standing from one of the comfortable chairs, turning to grin at his school-mates, and new business associates.

"Lavender, Gin." His thick Scottish brogue barely managed the syllables as he leaned forward to eagerly give them a squeeze and kiss.

As soon as they were settled, Evelyn, or Evie as she had insisted that they call her, waved her wand, and a tea tray made it's way to the desk.

They talked over the next few months of scheduled events that Wood had signed on for, as well as the photo shoot that had just been planned in a few weeks time.

Evie was a nice woman, but Ginny knew through the negotiations that they had gone through to get Wood as a representative, that there was a reason she was one of the most successful agents in the sporting world. She proved this time and again by countering their request for Wood's presence at a few events, and eventually, Ginny felt she had little choice in the matter.

Sharing a glance with Lavender, Ginny thought furiously about their options. Portions of Wood's contract were not spelled out, but rather on an as-needed-basis, and Evie was taking full advantage. Wood himself, seemed to be almost nodding off. His eyes had glazed over a full ten minutes prior.

As Evie countered a request for Wood to be at the opening celebration of the upcoming Quidditch season, Ginny had a flash of inspiration.

"I'm sorry to hear that Wood will be unavailable," Ginny spoke sweetly enough to draw Lavender's eyes, her face expressionless, but Ginny could sense the under-laying panic that she might be giving in too easily to Evie's demands. Ginny hoped her friend and partner trusted her enough to let her do this.

"Yes, he is very busy. It's a difficult time of year, which I know that you appreciate yourself." Evie laughed, a large grin on her face at odds with what she was saying to Ginny.

Ginny smiled in return. "I definitely do. That's fine, however, I've had an acceptance from someone else to wear one of our kits to the event. I do hope that Oliver will be available at some point in the future, however."

"Someone else?" Wood spoke for the first time since negotiations over his time had begun. "Who?"

"Oliver…" Evie admonished him lightly her smile faltering for a moment before she controlled it and turned back to Ginny. "Surely, you can not be serious. After all, Oliver is under exclusive contract…"

Lavender jumped in as she realized what Ginny was doing, speaking just as sweetly as her partner, "you are correct that Oliver is under an exclusive contract. BFW, however, is not. We are able to use anyone else in our advertising campaign and events as long as Oliver gets his guaranteed rate and promotions."

Evie's face turned grim, and Ginny could practically hear the intelligent agent going over the terms of the contract in her head.

"Is that true, Evie?" Wood now looked incredibly interested in the conversation.

She nodded tightly, her shiny black hair bobbing with the motion. "May I ask who will be representing BFW at the event?"

Feeling Lavender's eyes on her as well, Ginny took a deep breath and confirmed an unwanted relationship to one of the biggest gossips in the Quidditch world. "Draco Malfoy."

As expected, Evie's features turned thoughtful even as Oliver burst out laughing. "The ferret?"

"As I'm sure you will recall," Lavender began, smiling coolly at Evie and ignoring the Quidditch star, "Draco Malfoy is something of a celebrity in the media. I'm sure that the reporters won't mind that the Canon Keeper isn't there if Malfoy makes an appearance."

Evie looked at the two women seated across from her and smothered a sigh. Her hands were effectively tied. "We'll see what we can do about rescheduling Oliver's other events. He will be there."

Lavender took her partner out to Fortesque's on the way back to the office to celebrate.

"Incredible, Gin, incredible. We can have Oliver at what we want from now on." She smiled as she waved her small pink spoon around, pistachio dripping from it as it started to melt.

Ginny grinned smugly and set to demolishing her own double fudge. "I know."

"I can't believe that Draco Malfoy will be at this event… one of the biggest events of the season… wearing BFW," Lavender mused out loud, positively gleeful. "Along with Oliver Wood! We can't lose!"

"What?" Ginny's head shot up. "Now that Oliver is going, we don't need Draco there."

"Are you taking the mickey?" Lavender demanded, setting her empty bowl back on the small table. "We have the opportunity to have two of the most famous men in the world there, both wearing our kits, and you think we don't need Draco there?"

Lavender laughed slightly shrilly, months and months of long hours and stress having taken their toll on her normally calm façade. Ginny sighed. Now was not the time to argue with her partner.

Mentally, Ginny went over how far away the event was. It wasn't until mid-April, which was just under two months away. Plenty of time. She had bigger fish to fry where Draco Malfoy was concerned.

She closed her eyes briefly, thinking again on touching his perfect pale skin... He was perfect. Perfect, until he opened his damned mouth. Keeping that thought first and foremost, Ginny tuned back into the conversation to hear Lavender planning their expected expansion to France. Ginny nodded in all of the appropriate places, but the truth was, was that she really didn't feel like discussing work at that moment.

It was a little shock to realize that something else had gained her attention so completely. Or rather, someone.

Right before leaving her office that evening, she was waylaid by Ron. Grinning widely, she hugged her youngest brother tightly across her desk. Of all of the Weasley boys, Ron seemed to be the one floundering the most since leaving Hogwarts.

He had had an on/off relationship with Parvati Patil for years before she had become pregnant with their son. Out of obligation, and no real love for one another, they had gotten married almost two years prior, separating when Jamie had turned a year old.

Ginny leaned back, steering her much taller brother to the small couch at the side of her office.

"How are things, Ron?" she asked, concerned over just how… hollow he looked. He shook his head, giving her a small smile.

"It's been okay," he spoke without any of humour in his voice that she had always associated with him. Ron was a difficult person by nature, he and Ginny had always found something to fight about, but he had always been so passionate before the whole debacle with Parvati.

"How's Jamie? Did you have him this weekend?" She rested a hand on his arm, watching as he bent his head over his clasped hands that dangled loosely between his knees.

"Yeah," he answered after a long moment. "I actually just dropped him off to Parvati's mum."

"Ron… what's wrong?"

He glanced up at her briefly, his bright blue eyes shining, before looking back down. "Parv's getting married."

"What?" Ginny gasped, unable to help herself. "You've only been apart for a couple of months!"

"It's been going on for awhile," he cleared his throat awkwardly around his words. "She wants me to think about allowing him to adopt Jamie."

"You're kidding!"

"No." His bright head bowed even further over his hands. "She thinks it would be better for Jamie… you know, to have a mum and dad who love each other, and live together…. Not getting shuttled back and forth."

"Bollocks," Ginny cried decisively, outraged on his behalf. "He is your son!"

"Gin, I've barely been around him since he was born," Ron spoke again with that soft voice that sounded so strange coming from his mouth. "I worked all the time when he was born, and now… I get him what, every other weekend?"

"Ron…" feeling helpless, Ginny stalled, not knowing what to say. "Ronald, no one is perfect. But he is still your son. I can't believe you would even think of this…"

"Gin, Parvati's always been the sensible one." Ron smiled tightly. "She knows what's best for Jamie. It's just going to get harder as he gets older."

Ginny left her office later that evening, feeling distinctly unsettled by the conversation she had had with Ron.

She knew that Ron looked upon her as something of a confidant. She was in the family, and yet not an older brother who would mock, or their mother who would coddle. Her views on Ron were a little bit more complex.

Formed during their years at school, where she had resented his presence, and then made to feel guilty for feeling that way by Harry and Hermione, she had long since stopped confiding in him. It was an odd relationship that they had.

Plus, Ginny knew that despite his silence on the subject, Ron still did not understand her breakup with his best mate. Hell, Ginny barely understood it herself, and it had now been years since that had happened.

Ginny sighed. A lot had changed since school, and a lot had not.

Stepping into Malfoy's flat brought this message home for her. She unbuttoned her long winter cloak slowly, toeing off her boots onto the pristine fire grate as she caught and held a familiar mercury gaze.

"Ginny." Draco inclined his head at her, watching her every move, his face utterly expressionless except for his eyes which seemed to glow in the dim light of the room.

"Draco," Ginny mocked lightly, not in the mood for any of his theatrics this evening. She padded into the large kitchen, intent on the idea of food and drink.

As she sliced into the crusty baguette that was laid out on the sleek counter, she could feel his presence enter the room, and instinctively the muscles in her back and shoulders tensed in anticipation of his touch.

He disappointed her, however, moving instead to sit elegantly upon one of the tall bar stools that surrounded the kitchen island. "I need to go to Paris in the morning."

That got her attention. She was half-expecting him to make some kind of remark about their encounter on the very same surface where she was preparing a brie sandwich.

"Paris?"

Draco took a careful note of how her eyes fairly danced at the idea of the French city. "Have you ever been?"

Ginny shook her head. She had done little travelling since leaving school, instead focusing on her career. She had always loved everything to do with Paris….

"Would you like to accompany me?" Draco pointed his wand lazily at the cupboard, carefully filling a glass with cool water before floating it to the counter in front of him. Ginny watched his graceful movements, the sureness of his fingers with her breath in her throat.

It wasn't until she glanced at his face, and realized that he had that faint smirk across his features again that she remembered he had asked a question. "To Paris?"

"That would be the city that we had just been discussing, yes," Draco's smooth drawl mocked her as he took a sip from his glass, his eyes never breaking contact with her own.

"Paris…" Ginny murmured. She frowned as a thought occurred to her, "is this part of our contract? For me to accompany you?"

"You find the idea so repulsive?" A golden eyebrow arched in enquiry even while the rest of his features remained absolutely still. Ginny stared at him, getting the vague sense that she had disappointed him, despite the lack of evidence to support that.

Shaking her head at the thought, she spoke louder than necessary in an effort to distract herself, "just answer the question for once, Draco."

"As you wish." He smiled enigmatically. "No, this would not be a strict contractual agreement. I'm going to sort out a few…. glitches… with one of my companies down there, and I will not be entertaining. You would probably be left on your own to explore the city."

Excitement raced through Ginny at the speed of light, and she started doing furious mental calculations of how she could take time off work, and all of that sensible business. "How long?"

"Two, maybe three days." Draco's lids slightly lowered over his eyes, sending heat shooting to Ginny's centre as he watched her. "And nights."

Ginny licked her suddenly dry lips, wanting so desperately to touch Draco sodding Malfoy, and yet not willing to show him that level of weakness. Her eyes traced the little bit of smooth pale skin that was exposed by the v-neck of his silky black t-shirt, and she shuddered, ever so slightly. The tension was killing her.

"When are you leaving tomorrow?"

Draco took another sip of his drink before answering smoothly. "Eleven o'clock. My assistant has arranged the portkey in my office to trigger at exactly that time."

Ginny shook her head, again amazed by the level of wealth and power that Draco seemed to take for granted. Portkeys, in and of themselves, were very expensive publicly. To have one privately in an office, to go off at such a convenient time… well, it fairly boggled her mind.

It was certainly different than the one time she and her family had gone on holiday to Egypt during the summer between her first and second year at Hogwarts.

"I'll meet you there," Ginny decided, her fear of being alone with the male in front of her outweighed by her desire to see the famous French city. Well… perhaps fear was the wrong word for it. Ginny was not about to explore those feelings too much, however.

Draco simply nodded, his eyes again darkening as he watched her slouch against the counter, eating her sandwich with quick movements of her fingers and hands.

She could feel her hair falling out of her sleek chignon, the curls escaping the charms to flutter around her ears, and with a curse, she set her supper down to tend to it.

"Don't." Ginny jumped at Draco's voice, so low and rough, and yet savagely sensual. She looked up to meet his eyes, her hands suspended in mid-air on either side of her head.

Raising an enquiring eyebrow, she was shocked at the open hunger on his face. It seemed that the one thing he was unable, or unwilling, to hide was his reaction to her. Ginny had to admit, that it gave her an odd sense of power upon realizing that.

"Let it down," he commanded in his soft silky drawl. Ginny shivered, but picked up her wand, her eyes never leaving Draco's. Muttering an incantation, barely knowing what she was doing, she stared at Draco as crimson curls spiraled past her shoulders and down her back.

"Come here." Ginny stepped forward before she even thought about what he was asking, hesitating as the reality of the situation came back to her. She stood awkwardly for a long moment, before Draco's lips curled slightly at the corners, and he crooked a long finger at her.

Falling had never felt so sweet.

Ginny moved until she was beside him, looking down at him uncertainly even as he pushed back from the counter, and smoothly stood in one graceful motion.

Wordlessly, he held out a hand to her, and she slowly touched her fingertips to his own. A sense of unreality settled over her as he tugged her along after him, not hurriedly, but at a confident pace.

She stared at the back of his head as they made their way through the flat. The light seemed to shine off of his silvery hair, clasped though it was in a leather thong at the base of his neck. Her fingers fairly itched to pull it from the silken length, and she felt a rush of heat spread through her, pooling in her loins.

It shocked her when he did stop, and she almost walked into his broad back in her daze. Shaking herself slightly, she barely noticed that they were now in Draco's bedroom. Instead, once again, her eyes seemed to fill with molten silver.

"I've thought about you," Draco spoke softly, seductively, his voice caressing Ginny's senses. She shivered as he lifted a hand to touch a curl that rested on the side of her neck.

Sliding his fingers back and forth across the soft skin on the side of her neck, Draco leaned forward to kiss the spot just above her shirt collar.

Ginny sighed, and tilted her head back, unable to do anything but feel. Thinking seemed to not be getting her anywhere anymore.

"Look at me," Draco commanded, a hard note entering his voice. Ginny's head snapped forward, her eyes opening to settle on his features. Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he cupped the base of her head.

Ginny stared at him for a long moment, before moving closer to brush her lips against his. That seemed to surprise him, and he leaned back slightly to look down at her.

"What?" Ginny found her voice somewhere, mildly uncomfortable at the intensity in Draco's gaze.

This time he was the one to lean forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that started off tender, but turned passionate within seconds. Ginny gasped, and Draco took the opportunity to thoroughly explore the soft skin of her mouth.

Ginny's next moment of consciousness was when she realized that she was sprawled across the huge bed, wearing nothing more than a dazed look and her sensible white pants.

"I need to introduce you to silk…" Draco murmured, running a finger along the elastic band. He propped his head on one hand as he lay on his side to watch her.

"I like my pants just fine," Ginny defended herself without any real conviction, her attention focused almost completely on the movement of his fingers against the skin of her hip.

Draco's lips curled into a smirk as he let his hand wander below the white cotton, feeling the moisture there. Ginny sucked in a breath, her legs spreading involuntarily.

Before she really had a moment to realize what he was about, Draco had maneuvered himself between her thighs. Straining, Ginny pulled her head up to look down over her naked body to see the erotic sight of Draco's pale head looking at her from over the springy red curls that hid her from his view.

"I destroyed your pants," he informed her conversationally, seemingly unaware of the fact that his breath was fanning over her in the most distracting way possible. He leaned over her thigh to place his wand on the bedside table.

"I hate you," she gasped as he touched his tongue to the small pearl that had been previously hidden.

"I know," he murmured against her skin, "but you still want me."

"No…" Ginny arched her back off the bed as he explored her more thoroughly than her last doctor's exam.

"Yes…" he hissed in return, running his teeth along her. "Say it."

Ginny reached down to hold on to Draco's head, holding on for dear life. Draco tightened his grip on her inner thighs, and spread her apart even further.

Crying out, Ginny tightened her grip, feeling Draco's hair pull from it's thong as he introduced his fingers to the mix.

Suddenly, he pulled away, making Ginny cry out as though in pain.

"You're mine." He looked down at her intently. "I want to hear you say it."

"I want you!" Ginny made a mad grab for Draco's head once again, trying desperately to pull him back down to her. "I want you!"

"And you are mine…" A satisfied smile curved Draco's mouth, before he ducked his head back down, and Ginny knew no more.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay… a lot of family medical issues in the past couple of weeks. I will be updating again within the next two weeks. I'm simply amazed at the level of notice this story is getting… Thank you to all who reviewed and/or emailed me… I know, too much time has passed between updates, and this is very short comparitvely, but I will make it up, PROMISE!!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Ginny woke slowly, feeling movement beside her. It was still dark out, and the shadows cast against the wall opposite from moved in intriguing patterns that made her eyes cling.

A hand smoothed down her side as a pair of cool lips found the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Good morning," Draco murmured softly, pressing down briefly with his teeth before his lips and hand disappeared completely.

Ginny sighed, not yet awake enough to really care that she was in the same bed as he was, or about the intimate feeling of the situation. She was much too comfortable.

"'Morning," she whispered back, her voice lazy with sleep. Turning her head slightly, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Draco sitting up against the luxurious headrest, his arms behind his head.

She turned her head back before she could really stare at any of the bare skin on display, her instincts even in sleep seeking to protect her.

Draco made a low, indistinguishable sound, before the bed dipped, and she felt his weight stand from the soft surface behind her.

This time, the temptation proved too great, and Ginny rolled her upper body slightly to watch his progress across the bedroom.

He was beautiful. That was the only thought that was able to filter into her mind. She greedily watched the play of muscles across his back and buttocks as he walked away. His body was long and lean, with smooth muscles that reminded her of his time as a seeker at Hogwarts.

He was also utterly without shame was her next thought as he made his way out the door that led to the hall to head to the front room.

Ginny closed her eyes tightly, trying desperately not to think of the perfect male body she had just been ogling quite unabashedly.

There was no hope for her.

Checking her wand, she realized that it was a little after five in the morning, and she decided that sleep was not going to be forthcoming at this point. She decided to treat herself to a lovely shower in Draco's opulent master bath, and she sighed as the hot water beat down on the back of her neck.

The water smoothed away all of the tension that she had felt growing steadily over the past couple of weeks since Draco Malfoy had strolled back into her life.

Leaning against the cool, moist wall, Ginny thought drowsily about her life.

Things had been so simple, upon reflection, before the former Slytherin had made his intentions more than clear. Now, she had to deal with an insufferably sexy arsehole, her own hormones, and her family. Though, come to think of it, when had she not had to deal with her family?

There was also the little matter of what Draco's game exactly was. She felt like the corner piece of a large puzzle, and she had only half the pieces in front of her.

Yes, Draco had said he wanted her in school, but that was a different Draco from the ruthless man in her life now. It was honestly hard to believe that he would still want her after ten years where the most contact they had had was perhaps a random passing on the streets.

He also seemed to have some sort of relationship with Pansy Parkinson, who Ginny briefly remembered from Hogwarts. Her pride had prevented her from asking him, or even thinking too much about the beautiful brunette. Daphne had said that they were incredibly good friends…

Daphne. There was another issue that Ginny had tried not to think about. Daphne, who had been one of her closest friends for years, was quite upset about Ginny not telling her about what exactly was going on with her and Draco.

What exactly did she want her to say? Yes, he's blackmailing me into living and having sex with him, but here's the kicker, he seems to not want the sex part.

Ginny reflected a little on the last part of that thought. He definitely seemed to want the sex part… but he wasn't acting on it. She wondered at that, and the idea that perhaps he was impotent or something of that nature made her smile brightly to herself.

It was not like she had not been willing, more than willing. Ginny pressed her suddenly hot cheek tightly against the cool tile, her hand automatically moving to the spigot to cool the shower water.

She hated to think what the full act of fucking would do to her senses.

It was probably all part of some devious plan of his… he seemed to always be calculating his next move, his next action. She doubted very strongly that he did anything on the spur-of-the-moment. Just because she couldn't understand the way he thought, did not make his actions nonsensical.

What she had read about him in the paper added another dimension to this whole, sordid business. His authority within his own company was threatened, and from what little she knew of him, he would not take that kind of threat lying down. Far from it.

At least BFW was safe from him. That was one thought that helped ease her tangled thoughts.

Now, there was this whole Paris trip, which she was very excited about, though still apprehensive. The Eiffel Tower… the Louvre, the Seine, Montmartre, the Latin Quarter, Notre Dame… It all sounded quite wonderful. Quite romantic too, which was were the apprehension was coming from.

Ginny wondered if Draco's iron-clad control might falter slightly in a hotel room away from London.

Then she started wondering what had happened to Draco during and after the war that had broken out in her final year at Hogwarts. He had simply disappeared, and no one had seemed to know where exactly he had gone.

Frowning, Ginny reached a hand down to turn off the now-cool water.

She wanted answers. She wanted answers from Draco Malfoy as soon as possible. It just seemed like every time they got anywhere near each other, talking was the last thing on their minds. Invariably, she ended up frustrated and angry, and he was just as cool and calm as ever. Or, they ended up snogging furiously, or him leading her to the bed.

Ginny blushed as she remembered the evening before.

She went through her morning routine without really thinking about it. The charms to straighten and smooth her hair into a low knot at the nape of her neck were almost automatic at this point. Ginny smoothed on the moisturizer and sun-protecting potions from Madame Malkin's new apothecary line, and the few cosmetics she wore each day.

Shooting a permanence charm at her face, Ginny then threaded the pearl earrings that Harry had given her for their one year anniversary through the holes in her ears before stepping into her simple black pantsuit and silky blue shirt.

Draco was still seated at the island when she entered the kitchen, drinking a cup of what looked like coffee, and going over a newspaper. Ginny looked closer, blinking when she realized that it looked like a Muggle publication.

"What are you reading?" she asked as she quickly flashed her wand at the cupboard. A steaming cup of coffee flew into her hands, and she added milk and sugar manually. She had learned, in about her third year at Hogwarts, that her wand did not like deciding amounts of sugar for her. Invariably, when she tried, she ended up with either a very bitter cup of coffee, or something that could resemble candy floss.

"The _New York Times_," Draco answered quietly. Ginny stared at him for a moment, somewhat shocked by his answer, before turning away to see to her breakfast.

Ginny ignored the feeling of Draco's eyes following her movements. She was beginning to notice that for all his air of nonchalance and almost boredom with what might be going on around him, he seemed to always be aware of her presence.

It was a mildly heady feeling, she grudgingly admitted to herself.

"Ginny," he spoke in the low drawl that continued to send shivers up her spine. Instinctively, she turned to meet his gaze, and by the slight smirk on his lips, he knew exactly what kind of affect he had on her.

She raised her eyebrows inquiringly at him as she took a sip of the hot drink.

As a child, Ginny remembered sitting in the window seat in her room, playing with the already-frayed edges of a soft pillow, as she watched thunderstorms rage outside. The sky would be a deep grey, so much colder than the usual blue, and the rain would glint as it hit the bit of roof that obscured her vision of the ground below.

With a start, she realized that Draco's eyes were the exact colour that she had obsessed over as a five year old.

Staring into the liquid silver pools now, Ginny felt her lips part on an exiting breath, her hands stilling with the mug resting against her lower lip.

Draco took a shuddering breath, the faintest hint of pink stealing into his high, pale cheeks. He closed his eyes briefly, and Ginny felt a wrench deep within as soon as she lost his gaze.

Caramel eyes narrowing, she lowered her coffee slowly to the counter behind her. "How dare you?"

He opened his eyes slightly, the long lashes protecting his gaze from her. "Dare I?"

"You insufferable git!"

His response was to quirk a pale eyebrow at her, and pick his paper up from where it had fallen to the floor.

"Well?" She tapped a foot impatiently on the tiled floor, her arms across her chest. She would have been horrified to have seen herself imitating her mother almost exactly at that moment. Her mother, when faced with the twins who had found some new way of wreaking destruction.

"I'm sorry, I do not respond the immature taunts and name-calling," Draco spoke smoothly, no hint of emotion in his voice, his face a marble statue.

Ginny resisted the urge to pull at her own hair in frustration. "You used _legilimency_ on me. How dare you?"

That got his attention. "_Legilimency_? Why would I need to? Everything that you feel, kitten, is always in plain sight on your beautiful face."

"I don't believe you." Ginny set her chin stubbornly, her fingernails digging into her arms as she tried for some semblance of self-control. "You have absolutely no scruples, no morals, do you? Merlin…"

"Believe what you will," he answered, a shrug evident in his voice. Total unconcern was written across his entire being.

"That's all you have to say for yourself?" Ginny could hear the note of hysteria creeping into her own voice, and there was really nothing she could do about it. This was her worst fear, her fear of anyone finding their way into her mind without her knowledge. It reminded her far too much of how the events in her first year at Hogwarts had started.

"I will not discuss anything with you if you persist on behaving like a child," Draco stated, a firmness stealing into his voice which had Ginny shaking with anger.

"A child!" It was possible that he knew exactly what to say to upset her the most. "A child! I am not a child!"

Inwardly, Ginny winced at the high shrill tone of her voice around that last sentence which had completely undermined what she had said about her adult-status.

Draco ignored her completely. Calmly, he finished his coffee, and laid the paper carefully upon the countertop before leaving the room.

Ginny closed her eyes in frustration as she heard him Floo out. That had not gone well. He just seemed to bring out the absolute worst in her.

She could never remember screaming at Harry like she had just done to Draco… And yet, life with Harry had been ordinary, bordering on dull.

Shaking her head, Ginny decided that was a thought best left alone. Comparing Draco to Harry was not the best course for her at this point.

Sitting at her desk, promptly at nine, Ginny went through her morning mail, when the sleek black owl that she know knew to be Draco's business owl knocked on her tightly closed window.

Ginny shivered briefly as she shoved it open, unsurprised to have the heavy parchment letter it carried almost thrown at her before it left again. The owl obviously remembered the last time it had seen her.

Closing the window with a tight 'click', Ginny cursed at the fact that winter was still, apparently, far from over. She turned the sealed letter over in her hand, the urge to simply throw it in the fire that danced in the corner of her office almost overwhelming.

With a sigh, she fell into her desk chair, and ripped open the dark green seal with her fingernails.

_Be at my office for half past ten._

_DM._

He was quite possibly the most succinct letter-writer that she had ever encountered. And, where did he get off telling her what to do? Did the man have no manners?

Again, her mind filled with Paris, but this time, she did not allow herself to entertain thoughts of wandering the great city. There was no way that she could go anywhere with him. Especially on a trip that he had said was not in their contract.

What did that say about her, that she was willing to spend even more time with the git than necessary? And, she still had her reservations about their fight earlier that same morning… well, she had fought, he had finished his coffee and left. That seemed to irritate her more than anything.

She was not used to screaming at someone who refused to fight back.

Forcing herself back into her work, Ginny noticed the clock more and more frequently that morning, and hated herself for it.

As the time turned to ten, and then ten fifteen, Ginny could feel her muscles tensing, as if she expected Draco Malfoy himself to storm into her office, and drag her out by her hair.

When ten thirty rolled around, followed closely by ten forty-five, and then eleven, all without incident, Ginny could feel herself relax somewhat, before disappointment truly set in.

She had wanted to go to France. And she was just the slightest bit upset that Draco had not made more of an effort to force her to go. That in and of itself made her wonder about her own behaviour and thought processes.

Was she kidding herself concerning Draco Malfoy? If he forced her to do something, or gave her no other choice, was that the only way that she could accept him? If it was not completely her decision, did that somehow not make her responsible?

She knew in a heartbeat that if she had had her way the night before, they would have had shagged like rabbits in heat. Was it possible that he was waiting for her to realize that?

It was too confusing to think about. But it made her worry that maybe his calling her a 'child' was not too far off the mark.

Ginny pushed away from her desk at quarter after eleven, and resolved to stop thinking about Draco.

She threw herself into her work with a vengeance, and by the end of the day, her marketing team were all muttering angrily to themselves about the amount of work that she had doled out as she scribbled furiously on every contract they had for the next year in her office.

More than one female worker would glance at the obviously tense redhead, and remark to one another that their boss needed a good hard shag.

Ginny heard one, Emily, voice this thought a hair too loud, and she sighed as she agreed internally.

A nice trip to France wouldn't have hurt either, was her next thought.

--

Bianca kept her expression professional as she watched her boss stand at the window of his office, staring out at the fantastic view of the city below.

His lean build was straight as an arrow, his hair perfectly confined at the nape of his neck by a leather thong, but she could sense unrest just below the surface. It was just a feeling she had. Of course, her 'feelings' were usually correct, and it was that skill that had enabled her to be in this position after a relatively short period of being a personal assistant to someone lower in the company.

"Have there been any owls?" Bianca was slightly startled out of her thoughts by Mr. Malfoy's question, spoken in his low, calm voice.

Quickly, she took a look at the file of important documents and notes that she made sure was always on her person. "Professional, or personal?"

A light pause, and then Mr. Malfoy spoke, even more softly, "personal."

Her professional exterior allowed Bianca to nod politely before looking through her notes at the highly unusual answer that she always asked simply out of courtesy.

"No sir." She shook her head in the negative, and looked up at him in time to see him pull his glasses off of his nose, and carefully place them in the case. "Sir, the portkey will be activated within one minute. Is there anything more that you wish for me to do at this time?"

"No thank you, Bianca. I should be fine on my own in France until tomorrow at two, when I would like to floo conference with you about my findings. Please keep everything in order until then."

"Sir," Bianca faltered slightly, feeling a little bit out of her depth, unsure as how to be asking a personal question of her highly private boss. "Sir, I was under the assumption that the portkey was for yourself, and a Miss. Ginevra Weasley. Should I cancel the tours and other plans that you had made for her in Paris?"

"It would appear so." Mr. Malfoy's features were blank as he stepped forward to touch the small glass orb that had appeared in mid-air beside his large desk.

Bianca went through her list as her boss disappeared with a slight pop. Mr. Malfoy had ordered a large range of different tours for Miss. Weasley, along with various accounts set up in her name along the Champs Elysee, and theatre tickets to a number of different shows for her to choose from.

It took Bianca almost an hour to cancel everything that had been planned, and she felt a great surge of resentment towards her boss's erstwhile lady friend as she sat on a Floo call to Paris, promising that Mr. Malfoy would pay the cancellation fees.

--

Ginny spent an uneventful night at home that evening. It was odd how quickly she had started thinking of Draco's flat as her home.

It was also odd how much time she spent not thinking about certain things.

She had heard nothing from Draco all day. Not a word, not an owl after the one that he had sent her about the time to be at his office.

Deciding to herself that Paris would be cold and rainy at this time of year helped a lot.

Staring at the wall in the silent flat, Ginny admitted to herself that she was already missing Draco. His presence was so overwhelming that it was hard not to.

Resisting the urge to pout, she decided to pay Hermione a visit.

After going through the security to get there, Dean and Hermione's flat was dark, with low, classical Muggle music drifting from some unseen point in the main room.

Ginny called out quietly for her friend, almost hesitant to disturb the peace of the usually bustling flat.

Nothing.

Slightly concerned that the Floo was obviously still on, with all of the inhabitants pretty clearly not at home, Ginny ventured in further, going so far as into the short hallway that led to the bedrooms.

That's when she did, in fact, realize that her best friend was home.

Home, and having a fine time of it.

Ginny's face heated up as she realized what the sounds she was hearing were the moans of delight from Hermione, and Dean's low voice that punctuated his groans.

They sounded so… intimate. Ginny stopped a few feet short of the squeaky wood floor outside of the bedroom, feeling like an intruder.

They were the sounds of a couple very much in love, and Ginny felt a pain that she did not have that. She had never really had that.

What Harry and she had had, was an exalted form of puppy love. A love doomed from the start due to youth and inexperience. He was the closest that she had ever come to love.

A voice deep inside of her wondered briefly about Draco Malfoy. He had once said that he wanted to know her mind and her thoughts, and she supposed that was a singular form of intimacy. But she wanted something deeper. Something beyond knowing what that person was thinking, something beyond shagging.

It was nice to finally know what exactly she wanted. Or, at least to have some idea of it.

Ginny backed away slowly, careful to make no sound in the quiet flat, though she doubted that Dean and Hermione would have heard her if she'd decided to sing and do a jig on their coffee table at that moment.

She desperately needed to think things over, and she knew who she had to talk to.

A/N: thank you to all who reviewed, yet again… I love reading what people think and feel about this story… honestly, it keeps me going with it. The last chapter, I was really REALLY unhappy with. I felt that it was rushed, and… yeah, I hated it. I actually really liked writing this chapter, though it is mostly just Ginny thinking things over.

Again, let me know what you think… and thank you again!!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

Ginny looked more intently at the meat that she was in the process of cutting than absolutely necessary, but it was really the only moment of silence that she had had since arriving at the charity ball three hours prior.

She was uncomfortable in the dress that Madame Malkin herself had sewn onto her. Ginny felt exposed by the cut, though the material itself was soft and silky against her skin.

She was also tired, due to her stubbornness in insisting that she work the full day before coming to the event. And she also had a massive headache located right on her temples from trying to second guess the enigmatic man seated to her right.

It also didn't help that the outrageously expensive hairdresser that she had had to go to had pulled her hair back so severely, that it felt like her smile extended to the back of her neck.

It was not an evening of her dreams coming true, that was for sure.

Casting a glare at the top of the table, unable to see the incredibly high heels that held her feet in a vice-like grip, Ginny still felt a justified hatred at their mere presence.

Of course, Draco looked magnificent, and utterly within his element. Figures.

He was casually elegant beside her, his black evening wear showcasing his pale male beauty, holding a lively conversation with the wizard on his right, and completely ignoring her presence.

At that last thought, Ginny forced herself to calm down, to not descend into the petulance that had so often gotten her her own way growing up with six older brothers. It really did not seem to impress Draco much.

It was pitiable just how aware of him she really was. No refined movement was unnoticed, from the way that he held his cutlery, to the wine glass balanced carelessly between his graceful fingers.

It had been at least a week since he had returned from a three day trip to France, and neither he, nor Ginny had said a word about that debacle.

In fact, they had barely said anything. Ginny, because she was afraid of what she might say, and Draco… for his own mysterious reasons that Ginny couldn't quite discern.

She rather felt that he had probably been happy not to have her along in Paris.

They had also slept together in his large bed every night, much to her consternation. She climbed into the bed in the guest room that she had privately dubbed as 'her' room each evening, and yet woke up cocooned in his strong arms each morning. She had not once woken up during the transfer of beds, and it somewhat unnerved her that she was so pliable once asleep.

Ginny glanced again at Draco, narrowing her eyes slightly as she took in his fallen-angel profile. It simply was not fair for one man to have turned out so well after spending much of his adolescence as a pointy-faced ferret.

It was also infuriating that those features swam across her mind as she locked herself into the bathroom in his flat almost every evening, biting her lip to quiet her cries of pleasure as she rubbed herself furiously to orgasm. The tension was killing her.

It had really never bothered her before. The last time she had had a good shag… well, it was bad that she needed a few moments to do the mental calculations needed to figure it out. It had been at least a year.

Daphne had once told her, somewhat slyly, that business and paperwork would never give her the same level of satisfaction as a nice big cock. Ginny had laughed at the time, while Hermione had turned a light shade of pink, and swatted her across the back of the head.

Needless to say, Ginny no longer found that idea so amusing. All from a few weeks of Draco Malfoy.

It was enough to make a girl scream.

As the man that she was currently thinking about raised a pale eyebrow in inquiry at her, Ginny realized with a start that she had been staring at him for a good five minutes.

As she felt heat flood her face, she made some vague comment about the seasonal vegetables that accompanied whatever the hell she was eating, before looking back at her plate.

Her embarrassment grew, and she wondered if he had been able to tell what she was thinking. He seemed to always know, or he had before leaving for France. She still wasn't entirely sure it wasn't _Legilimency_ that had allowed for that. Just because one was sexy, didn't also mean one wasn't also complete and unscrupulous bastard.

She leaned forward to converse with the wizard seated on her other side, and though they had introduced themselves upon the start of supper, she had already forgotten his name.

They talked about the vegetables. They were seasonal.

Ginny tensed briefly as she felt a hand rest on the skin of her back, exposed by the extremely low cut of the dress that Madame Malkin had made for her.

The thought of the shear amount of money for Draco to have thrown at the esteemed seamstress to have made her design and fit the dress herself was astonishing. Ginny had spent the previous weekend in the private room in the expensive dress and robe shop, having fabric pinned to her in different ways, and Madame Malkin and one of her assistants going over sketches.

Ginny had brought some of her own paperwork with her so that the time wasn't completely wasted.

She was distracted back into the conversation by her neighbour's remarks on the balsamic glaze, and she struggled to keep her attention on him as Draco's long fingers stroked slowly over skin that suddenly felt too tight and hot for her body.

Ginny arched her back slightly, unable to help herself, moving into Draco's touch much the same as a cat. His fingers traced the delicate lines of her spine again and again, setting her skin on fire.

Just as she felt relatively confident in being able to predict his caresses, which made them no less pleasurable, but somewhat less disconcerting to her senses, he decided to spice things up slightly, by moving to her inner arm.

Her dress was simply held to her slight frame with a bejeweled necklace that wound around her neck in multiple layers, leaving her back almost shockingly bare. Draco took full advantage of this by stroking the skin of her arm from shoulder to the crease of her elbow.

His touch sparked her nerve endings, making her even more aware of his presence. The pads of his fingers traced small circles on her skin.

Ginny had never really appreciated just how sensitive the skin there was, and she sucked in enough of a breath to send the water that she had just taken a sip of whooshing down the wrong entry.

Pitched into a coughing fit, Ginny waved away the concerned attentions of her neighbour, fighting further embarrassment as the surrounding dinner-guests turned to see what was going on.

Finally able to get herself under control, Ginny realized that Draco was no longer touching her, and she turned to shoot him a glare. An effort, she found, that was not appreciated in the slightest, as he was engaged in a discussion about the curriculum changes made for the following year at Hogwarts with the witch opposite.

A witch who was both exceedingly attractive, and giving Draco a look of interest. Her attention caught by his good looks, and Gringotts account, Ginny thought sourly to herself.

Ginny carefully placed her cutlery down as a discreet chime sounded, signaling the end of the course. As the plates vanished, various guests stood to take advantage of the smooth music that filtered through the large hall.

Excusing herself lightly, Ginny made for the watercloset, trying not to think of it as running away.

Draco Malfoy… Draco Malfoy… Draco Malfoy… the name whirled through her head as Ginny sat down on the marble lid of the toilet and leaned her too-hot forehead against the wall beside her.

Closing her eyes, Ginny forced herself to relax. She hated letting him get to her, but it was hard not to. However irritating Draco had been in school, it was nothing compared with how he had turned out as an adult.

She tensed again, without really knowing why, hearing the sharp click of heels enter the outer room, stopping in front of where she knew the bank of sinks and mirrors were. A second pair joined the first a moment later, and Ginny could just imagine two of the glamorous witches from the ball admiring themselves, and fixing invisible imperfections.

"Do you know where Pansy is this evening?" Ginny started at the question, her eyes opening quickly as if to see the speaker through the door that muffled the sound.

"No, though I had thought that she would be with Draco this evening." The second voice noted distractedly. "I wonder where she might be. It was shocking to see Draco with a Weasley, I have to say."

"She seems very nice." Ginny smiled, deciding that she liked the owner of the first voice.

"It's still surprising…" the voice trailed off, and Ginny decided not to feel insulted by the vague comment. Hell, she probably agreed.

Ginny stopped eavesdropping as the two witches started discussing the latest trends in cosmetic charms and only vaguely listened as they clicked out of the room.

She was getting more and more curious about the issue of Pansy Parkinson. Her name seemed to pop up wherever Draco was concerned, though, according to Daphne, they were simply very good friends. She had been meaning to talk to Daphne ever since that ill-fated trip to France… girl's night had had to be postponed for the last two weeks due to business trips of her friends, but hopefully tomorrow would resolve that.

Ginny had a hard time believing that, and she waved off the tiny voice deep inside of her head that whispered that she and Harry were very good friends, despite nothing going on between them since their breakup almost five years prior. Weasley's did not believe in double standards, and that was that.

She had always prided herself on being a courageous Gryffindor, and yet, there she was… hiding in the loo, listening to what complete strangers thought of her. At a charity ball for St. Mungo's. It was a bit more interesting than her usual Thursday evenings spent at work.

Deciding that it would not do to live in the toilet, Ginny stood, and exited the stall to ensure that the charms were still in place from when the makeup artist had thrown them at her over four hours prior.

She didn't recognize herself. The hairstyle was incredibly severe, which she felt was reflective of how severe is was when she was already used to seeing her reflection with the red mass swept out of her face. It was caught in a single ponytail at the back of her head, the length streaming down her back in a silken, pin straight fall.

Ginny frowned. She looked beautiful… but cold. Too cold. Haughty. She tried grinning widely and winced as the movement tugged at her tight hair.

The dress was beautiful, in a colour that she never would have picked for herself. Bright, vibrant red. In fact, all of the fabrics that Madame Malkin had been going over had been red. Almost the colour of her hair and Ginny had to admit that she did like it. She just didn't recognize herself.

It was also a Muggle gown, and though the fashions of that society had permeated into the wizarding world, she still felt a little out of place from the rest of the glamorously dressed witches that evening. Again, she had no idea why Madame Malkin had chosen the design as opposed to something more traditional, especially in the crowd of older businessmen that she had thus far encountered.

Feeling silly, Ginny could almost hear her mother admonishing her about how it was 'what was inside that really mattered, dear'. Sticking her tongue out at herself, Ginny turned carefully on the high heels, and made her way back to the ballroom.

She was brought up short at the sight of Draco leaning casually against the wall opposite, an image straight out of Playwitch she was sure, in his expensive formal black dress robes, his expression carefully blank, but eyes burning as if with a fever.

"Draco," she spoke tightly, her nipples hardening as she was caught again within the full force of his gaze. Remembering her misgivings about his abilities concerning wandless, and questionable, magic, she looked over to the tall, arched doorframe, where couples in a dizzying array of colours swirled by.

"A vast improvement over the last dress you chose, kitten," he remarked with a slow smirk. Ginny shot him a blank look for a moment, before colour flooded her cheeks as she remembered the funeral dress she had worn to their first dinner together.

"Well, I dress to impress."

"Indeed." His smirk widened, showing perfect, pearly teeth. He pushed himself away from the wall, and offered an arm to her, all in one elegant movement.

Ginny sighed, and touched her fingertips to the black fabric there, ignoring the tiny sparks that shot through her at the feel of his hard, warm, forearm beneath.

"And so the show goes on," he spoke in the soft voice that she was accustomed to from him, but the inflection was… odd. It sounded too controlled. Ginny shot a look at his face, and found that she could read nothing beneath the charming half-smile he had in place as they entered the ballroom proper.

Ginny stayed at his side, smiling politely at the other guests as he circulated the room in a smooth pattern. She was rather in awe at his ability to retain names and details of the other guests, and it was quite clear that while many of the more successful businessmen did not like him, they begrudgingly respected him.

That is, until she was introduced to Alfred Curmudgeon. Ginny was sure it was simply her proximity to the former Slytherin that gave away his slight, and momentary tense at the sight of the older gentleman, and she forced herself not to shoot him a look of confusion. It was clear that Draco operated with the idea of 'know your enemy, but do not let them know you'.

It was a unique way of looking at the world, and Ginny had a quick thought that that was exactly how Draco treated her as well. She almost frowned before she could control the thought, and within a moment, they were at the side of the shorter, almost-portly older man.

"Alfred." Draco's voice was completely bland of any emotion as he held out a hand for the prerequisite shake.

"Draco my lad!" Where Draco's tones were carefully modulated, Alfred Curmudgeon was exuberant, and almost too-friendly as he reached out to enthusiastically shake Draco's hand.

Ginny hid a quick grin at the sound of anyone calling Draco 'my lad'. By Draco's subtle warning look down at her, he had noticed, and she smiled beatifically up at him. She almost missed the slight role of his silver eyes as he looked back at his business associate.

"This is my date, Ginevra Weasley," Draco stated, moving his hand to the small of Ginny's back, and propping her forward slightly.

"Charmed, my dear, charmed." Alfred leaned forward, and in an unexpected move, kissed the back of Ginny's hand. She blinked down at him, noticing how his scalp shone through shiny and pink despite the carefully combed pepper-gray hair.

He stood back up, her hand still firmly clutched in his, talking to Draco. "They get more and more beautiful, my lad. Whatever happened to… you know, the blonde one?"

Ginny disentangled herself gently from the older man, almost wanting to smack the conspiratorial smile off his face that he aimed at Draco. Draco's features hardened minutely before a small smile curved his lips, and his eyelids drooped to half-mask his eyes.

"Ginny and I have been together for awhile now, Alfred. I'm sure you know her family…" he spoke lightly, as he tugged Ginny back to his side with a grip of steel, his fingers curling around her slight waist.

Ginny concentrated on not letting her disgust with the man in front of her show through, and furthered whatever Draco's machinations were by making a show of turning into him slightly, and smiling up at him.

"Of course, of course…" Alfred's manner turned from over-friendly, slightly dotty obnoxious older man, to something akin to a shark within moments. "Are you in fact Ginny Weasley? Arthur's daughter?"

"I am indeed," Ginny responded with a slight smile, unsurprised. Most people knew of her parents and family.

"I am honoured then, by your presence. I have heard much of your role in the war, and friendship with Harry Potter."

Most people knew about that too.

"Thank you sir, you are too kind." Ginny had always found that polite blandness had the desired affect of having people leave her alone about those topics than any sort of friendliness.

"Nonsense!" Alfred brushed away her comment, and continued on, "we shall definitely have to meet to discuss those times at some point. Personally, I find those who knowingly sat out the war to have nothing in common with me anymore."

Again, Draco's muscles tensed, and Ginny resisted the urge to look away from the older gentleman. She had no idea what had happened to Draco during the war, but it would appear that he did not like the direction that this conversation was headed.

"In fact, I find it almost insulting that those who left are now allowed back into the British Wizarding society," he continued, his eyes gaining a steely look that Ginny recognized from the more radical thinkers during that period.

"Well, we all do what we think is best for ourselves, and those we care about," she spoke quietly, unwilling to show how much his attitude upset her. "I feel, that if we did not allow those wizards and witches back, well… we would be just as bad as those on the other side of the war, those who wished to make themselves superior by making others inferior."

"How fascinating." The man's face settled into friendly interest, but Ginny could see that he was not entirely happy with her comments. He turned to Draco, who had been silent and watchful through the short exchange, and Ginny could see the measure of his dislike for the tall blond flash in his eyes before he controlled it.

"Draco, we look forward to seeing you at the next shareholders meeting next week." Now, he spoke with the air of one savouring a particularly good victory.

Draco inclined his head in the faintest of movements. "Of course. Do say hello to your lovely wife for me. I am sorry to see that she could not make it this evening."

With that, Draco smoothly led Ginny away, leaving her with a bitter taste in her mouth over the entire discussion that had just happened.

"Draco…" she spoke softly, unwilling to have anyone overhear. "What was all that about?"

He shook his head slightly, dazzling Ginny as the light in the room shone off his incredible hair that was drawn back, as tightly as usual, at the back of his head.

Draco did not even look at her as he guided her swiftly out the large, glass French doors that led to the magnificent balcony.

Generally the venue was known for it's lovely gardens, and the wizard-made pond that sat to one side of the building, but at this time of year, it was more desolate than anything.

While the faint traces of snow that had fallen during the peak of winter had already melted away, the grounds still had the aura of death, and re-birth that came with those months leading to spring. She walked to the ornate stone railing, wishing for some space from Draco at that moment.

She hadn't really thought about the weather at this time of year, however.

Ginny shivered in her dress, the cold air hitting her bare skin like pins, and she heard Draco mutter a warming charm as he reached into his wand pocket.

As soon as she was relatively comfortable, Ginny turned to her companion who stood about two meters from her, staring down at her with what appeared to be fascination.

"Not many share your views, Ginny," he drawled in that low silk voice. Ginny shivered for a reason other than the cold.

"I know."

"In fact, I don't think I have ever heard that before, and so eloquently, kitten."

"Why do you call me that?" she whispered, unable to look away from him, but feeling like she had to know at least that much.

Apparently, Draco decided to, for once, not be glib, and answer a question with a question. "It suits you."

"Kitten?" She smiled lightly at the idea, quirking a golden-red eyebrow at him.

He closed the distance between them slowly, forcing her to look up to continue meeting his gaze as he came to a stop in front of her.

Ginny closed her eyes briefly as she could feel Draco's breath on her cheeks, smell his distinctive spicy scent. He appealed to all of her senses, and she decided that just admitting it would probably save her a lot of trouble.

She opened her eyes again as his fingers touched the side of her face, her skin sparking with the contact. Smoothing his fingers along the soft skin of her cheek, Draco watched as Ginny unconsciously leaned into his palm.

"How you crave my touch…" His voice was tight, far different from the controlled drawl that she was used to. "How could I not call you kitten? You practically purr in satisfaction if I pay you physical attention."

Feeling the heat spread to her cheeks, Ginny stared up at his painfully beautiful features, hating, and yet craving him. It was a strange mixture of emotions.

"You forced me into all of this." She found her voice somewhere, and took an unsteady step back, waving her arm in an all-encompassing motion.

He shook his head in disagreement, watching her retreat with unreadable eyes. "I did not force you to do anything. You always have a choice Ginny."

"No," she disagreed fiercely. "You left me with no choice. You have forced me into all of this, and I will hate you forever."

Draco's reply was to arch a perfectly-formed eyebrow at her, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "A choice is a choice, kitten. Never forget that. You would like to think you are immune to me, but who are you really lying to?"

Clenching her jaw, Ginny forced herself to relax. He seemed to know which buttons to push at all times, and it infuriated her.

"While we're talking about choices, why don't you tell me exactly where you were during the war?" Instantly, she knew she had hit a nerve, though, if she hadn't been looking for it, she doubted that she ever would have noticed.

"And ruin such a lovely evening?" Draco's voice was laden with latent sarcasm, and he walked by her to look over the railing to the frozen pond.

Ginny turned slightly, noting the fine lines of his profile in one corner of her mind, while she tried to think of some way to respond. It had been an unfair question after her conversation with Alfred Curmudgeon earlier.

"I can see that Gryffindor sense of honesty and good is making you feel guilty right now," Draco interrupted her thoughts. "I wouldn't worry overmuch."

"Well, now that I have your permission."

Draco shifted to face her, a smirk firmly in place on his full lips. "Do you need my permission for many things?"

Ginny stared at him stonily, refusing to rise to the bait. Silence spread between them as she turned her head to watch the dancers through the glass doors.

The wizarding world's business elite was all in that one ballroom, and she had had little say in whether she wanted to attend this evening. Personally, she thought that it all was a little hypocritical.

For a ticket price of a number of galleons, each guest attended this extravagant evening of dinner, drink, and dancing. The experience itself probably took up about ninety percent of the ticket price alone, and then each guest had on about that same amount of galleons in expensive evening wear, jewelry, and other superficial tools.

Ginny did not suppose for an instant that she was possessed of the greatest amount of philanthropic caring, but the math struck her as somewhat ironic. It was very enjoyable to simply people watch, and try to ignore the man at her side.

"All that glitters…" Draco murmured from beside her.

She turned to him, not understanding the reference. "Excuse me?"

He stared straight ahead, he too watching the dancers, his lips twisted in what she could only describe as disdain. The thought struck her as odd, that he would think of his peers in such a way.

It pleased her in a distant part of her mind that he might not be taken with this group. In another part, however, it reminded her of that horrid boy from Hogwarts, who had always believed so strongly in his own superiority.

"Are they not like you?" she questioned, folding her arms around her middle, feeling the need for the defensive gesture.

His lips curled into a slow smile as he turned his head to her. "I sincerely hope not."

Ginny frowned.

"Is that to your satisfaction?" Draco nodded down at her wrist, effectively changing the subject. Ginny blinked as she too looked down at the ornate diamond cuff that had been presented to her by Madame Malkin upon the final touches of her dress earlier that day.

"It's lovely." Her voice was stiff as she answered.

Draco arched a pale eyebrow, something akin to amusement dancing in his eyes. "But you do not like it?"

Ginny shook her head.

The silence between them widened, and Ginny realized that Draco rarely asked any questions of her, and those that he did were incredibly superficial in nature. He usually made statements. She wondered how often he let pride rule his actions, and whether that was really what was happening.

Then she remembered him asking her to come to France, and that threw her entire line of thinking right out the window.

It was that kind of startling thought that had Ginny answering him in a reckless nature that she would more likely have reserved for someone who she felt knew her better. "It is lovely, but too cold. I do not care for diamonds."

"Do you not?" He now seemed utterly disinterested in the conversation, and Ginny narrowed her eyes, trying to figure him out. It was done in vain. "May I ask what jewels you would prefer?"

"None." She cursed to herself in her head as she heard just how quickly she answered that question. Now he was going to think that she was being unnecessarily defensive.

Merlin, it was tiring trying to second guess him.

Draco turned his head slightly to smirk at her, reaching out a hand to tug on the end of her long ponytail.

"Rubies," she replied wildly, pulling away from him. It was unnerving how he managed to make every little, seeming innocent, touch into something verging on foreplay.

Draco laughed quietly at her, and Ginny stared at his perfect face, admiring what the almost-unguarded smile did to his features.

Just as quickly, however, he was back to polite disinterest, not unlike the expression he had used while circulating in the ballroom.

It was difficult to pin what kind of mood he seemed to be in, as he was so… mercurial… she thought, noticing how the light caught his highly unusual eyes.

"Can I ask you a question? Can I ask you a question without you answering with another question?"

He arched a pale eyebrow, before running a long finger across the exposed line of her collar bone, and down the side of her arm. Ginny stared at his chin, determined not to let him affect her so strongly.

Draco's breath shivered across her skin, and he placed his hand on her waist, tugging her to face him completely. "It would depend on the question."

Ginny thought furiously through all things that she had been thinking about, everything that she was curious, and found it incredibly hard to narrow down.

Draco watched her, her every emotion flitting across her delicate features, and he smiled. "Kitten, do try not to hurt yourself."

She glared at him, coming to a quick decision in that moment. "Why did you decide to make this 'arrangement' with me?" Ginny put a heavy sarcastic emphasis on the word 'arrangement'.

Draco looked down at her, their faces sheer millimeters apart, his fingers playing with the material that covered her waist. His other hand snuck up to gently rest on her lower back, and he smirked as he felt, rather than heard, her breath catch in the back of her throat.

"Have we not been over this?"

"No." Ginny frowned at him, recognizing evasiveness when she heard it. His smirk widened. "I want answers."

"Ah, but do you always get what you want?" He bent over her, his strong arms braced on the railing on either side of her hips. Ginny had the near-hysterical thought that her world was filled with Draco's larger frame right then.

"Not always…" she breathed, belatedly remembering the question. She leaned into him, unable to help herself be magnetically drawn there.

"Then you won't be disappointed." He closed the distance between their lips, not giving Ginny time to respond to his provocative comment.

As always, Ginny was overwhelmed by the taste and feel of Draco. She hungrily opened her mouth, moving her lips against his as she ran her fingers up the front of his robes, pulling at the heavy clasp there, desperate to feel his skin.

Draco's hands journeyed up her back, feeling the smooth skin bared by her dress. He kissed her mouth over and over, his tongue exploring the many hidden recesses, and caressing her own until she groaned into his mouth.

His lips moved to her jaw bone, stroking a line of fire with his tongue, before finding a spot just below her ear which seemed to fascinate him. Ginny trembled, concentrating on staying upright as he did delicious things to her neck, all while murmuring what he would like to do to her against her skin.

Over his pale head, she could see the dancers through the glass doors, and she hoped that none would turn, and peer out the window into the dark balcony.

It was easily one of the most erotic moments of her life.

Without warning, Draco drew away, his eyes ablaze as he grabbed Ginny's hand, and pulled her along as he walked away.

In a state of shock, Ginny followed him meekly, trying to avoid tripping over her own feet, feeling the wind brush against her kiss-swollen lips.

He stopped just beside the glass doors, in one of the only areas that was not a window, but was a stone wall, and braced his back against the uneven surface as he pulled her close once more.

"Kitten…" his voice was unusually thick, and Ginny came out of her daze enough to hear that odd inflection once more. Before she could think about it, his lips were again seeking out her mouth, and she sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, pulling herself up onto her toes to fully meet him.

His hands unerringly found her unfettered breasts through the loose, silky material of her dress. The same dress that had not allowed her the use of her regular undergarments, such as a bra, that would ruin the impact of the cut.

Ginny moaned gutturally into his mouth, and she again worked her hands down the front of his robes, undoing the expensively heavy clasps. She separated the material, groaning at the feeling of the silk shirt underneath.

Draco rolled Ginny's erect nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, ripping his mouth away. Leaning his forehead against her own, Ginny stared into his dark eyes, her breath shuddering at the feelings ripping through her.

This man had the ability to turn her on like no other.

He pinched her to the point of pain, and Ginny was shocked that there appeared to be a line connected directly from her nipples to her groin. That part of her had been in a near-constant state of readiness from the first time that she had seen him in his formal wear earlier in the evening. It was now embarrassingly swollen and moist, without even a direct touch.

It was somewhat gratifying to realize that he was not unaffected. The hard evidence of that was brought to her attention as he pressed his hips forward, grinding himself against her much softer curves.

"Draco…" Ginny moaned as he paid homage to the sensitive point on her neck, before moving the intricate neckline aside to nibble at the base of her throat. "Draco…"

"I am just the slightest bit busy at the moment, kitten," he murmured against her skin. "Do shut up."

"Can we go home? Please?" Ginny pulled back to stare up at him, hating that she was so close to begging him for sex.

He smirked, though the expression seemed forced, and almost painful for him. "I do love it when you say please, kitten, but no. I don't think so."

"Please. Please can we go? Draco… I want you." Ginny shoved a hand into his hair, dislodging the tie, and pulling his mouth down to meet her own, putting everything into the passionate kiss.

Suddenly, Ginny found herself backed up against the wall, breathless, with her dress gathered up at the front to her waist, and her tiny silk knickers around her ankles.

"Say it again, Ginny." Draco's voice was rough, and insistent in her ear, his breathing heavy as she felt him unzipping his slacks against her bare skin.

She moaned deep in the back of her throat as the back of his hand brushed against her swollen button that peeked out from beneath the thin shelter of auburn curls.

Her breath completely caught as he held his hard cock against her, rubbing the engorged head against her sensitive skin. He groaned softly against her ear as he felt the moisture there, and spread it over the tip of himself, coating it thoroughly in her juices.

Ginny strained up on her toes, trying to find the right angle to impale herself on him, and end the torturous teasing. Draco stayed just out of range, however, only allowing the very tip of his cock to enter her inflamed slit.

"Say it again, Ginny." Draco let his hips drift closer to her, allowing the entire head of his cock to enter her before he stepped back again.

Ginny whimpered, feeling completely out of control. She thrust the fingers of both of her hands into his now-loose silvery hair, and tugged his face down to her own level.

"Fuck me. Fuck me now, Draco." She took a shuddering breath as his burning shaft met the skin of her clitoris once again. "Please."

Draco grimaced, as though in pain, before he grasped her around the waist with one arm, and lifted her off her feet.

"Put your legs around me…" he spoke urgently against her lips, his breath mingling hotly with her own. She moved quickly to comply, feeling a level of tension and anticipation fill her that she had never felt before.

Bracing Ginny against the wall, Draco leaned forward once again feeling her curls parting at the onslaught of his hard cock.

Ginny locked her ankles around Draco's lean hips, and moved her pelvis urgently, impaling herself on his impressive length.

They both cried out at the sheer relief of the action, before the tension rose again, forcing them to move against each other; to create fiction for sensitive skin to react to one another.

Ginny's fingers tensed against Draco's scalp, and she used him to anchor her as her hips moved of their own volition against his own. She sought pleasure mindlessly, selfish in her pursuit that she had never allowed herself before with any other partner. It was liberating.

Draco's hands had moved to Ginny's thighs, tilting her in the exact position that allowed for the greatest amount of pleasure on both of their parts.

He would pull out until just the head of his hardness remained just inside of her tight depths, and then pound forward, forcing loud cries out of Ginny that his mouth moved over her own to muffle.

Sure that she would have bruises in the strangest of places in the morning, Ginny moved against him ever more enthusiastically as she could feel the pressure building deep within her loins.

Feeling Ginny's muscles starting to tense, Draco moved one of his hands between their impossibly close bodies, pressing his fore and middle finger against her clit, holding it to where his cock was pistoning in and out of her at increasing speed.

Ginny cried out, burying her head in Draco's neck, sobbing at the sheer bliss that she could feel swiftly approaching.

Suddenly, Draco's blunt fingernail rubbed hard against the tip of her clit, and Ginny threw her head back, her spine arching as she sobbed her completion.

Feeling Ginny collapse in his arms, and her inner walls contract against the nerves of his hardness, Draco groaned at the moisture that flooded and lubricated his way even further. He sped up, placing the hand that had so recently been bringing Ginny to such pleasure, around her back, pulling on her shoulders to force him even deeper within her.

The action prompted Ginny into another, though much smaller, wave of pleasure, and she sighed, feeling boneless even as Draco wrought his own completion from her limp body.

They stayed like that for a long moment, Ginny shuddering against Draco's tall frame, unable to control her natural reaction to what had just happened. What had just happened outside of a St. Mungo charity ball, no less.

It took her a long moment to realize that Draco had seemingly already recovered, and was placing the softest of kisses along the line of her neck to her jaw.

Feeling suddenly shy, Ginny unlocked her legs from him, moving slowly to stand on her high heels. Her muscles shook from a combination of a really good shag, and from being held in one, slightly uncomfortable position for such a long time. She winced as she felt what had to be their combined juices slicking the inside of her thighs.

Looking down, she struggled to stand independent of Draco, holding onto his shoulder tightly. She was exceedingly relieved that, for once, he had no comment, no indication that he noticed her discomfort.

Irritated that she had had no where to put it, Ginny wished that she had her wand to relax her muscles, and help clean herself off. This was one of the places that Muggles seemed to have some sort of advantage; they could take care of themselves, and did not feel incredibly helpless with the absence of a piece of wood.

Trying to decide how she would get back to the water closet without any of the other guests seeing her, and still dealing with the aftershocks of her incredible orgasm, Ginny was shocked to hear Draco quietly speaking.

She looked up, in time to be hit by a flurry of charms; all that appeared to be geared toward cleaning up her general appearance.

He was already immaculate, damn his eyes.

"What about my…" she paused, unsure and embarrassed about how to word it. He had stopped his charms, and put his wand away at this point, and he arched a pale eyebrow at her red cheeks. "Can you do something about my… inner thighs?"

Realization dawned on him, and he laughed quietly even as she looked up to glare at him.

"No," he replied in the silky drawl that she was starting to realize was as much a part of him as his pale beauty. "I want you to remember."

She narrowed her eyes, unwilling to let her pride suffer even more, and she stepped around him to head back into the ballroom. She vaguely wondered how long they had been gone for, and whether they had been missed.

All of that seemed rather unimportant compared with the incredible shag she had just had. She really couldn't feel any sort of regret about that.

Ginny's breath caught in her throat as Draco caught her from behind, his arms encircling her much smaller frame, and his lips finding the side of her neck. Another massive shudder went through her at his touch, and instantly, Ginny was aflame again.

"You forgot something," he murmured into her ear.

She tensed, unwilling to face him, for fear that she would not be able to control herself.

He languidly waved a scrap of black silk in front of her face, and Ginny's eyes widened as she recognized her knickers that had been forgotten on the balcony floor. She made a weak grab for them, even as they were pulled from her view.

She turned slowly, still not trusting her muscles completely, to face him, in time to see him place the knickers into an inner pocket of his robes. He smirked down at her, his eyes shining more brightly than she had ever seen.

"Shall we?" Again, he offered an arm to her, with a challenge in his eyes, and Ginny mutely accepted. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out just what she had gotten herself into with this enigmatic man.

Together, they turned and headed back into the ball, the formal glass door closing behind them on a cold, stone balcony. The balcony was lit simply by the overflowing candlelight from the bustling ball inside, casting shadows into the few corners that were not in plain view of the large windows.

A/N: Wow… long chapter. This is the longest chapter for this story, and it was actually the easiest to write. Yes, they finally screwed. It was a long time coming. I wanted to go against what was expected with this… Draco had his reasons for holding off, and more will come out in later chapters. Take a note of the little things with Draco… Ginny tends to notice a lot about him without really meaning to.

Also, a few people have asked about Ginny, and why I don't put more descriptions of her physical looks in here. Keep in mind that most of this story is from her perspective, and people do not notice themselves. You tend to only notice something new, not something familiar. Ginny notices herself in this chapter, because she looks different. She's not exactly happy about it though.

A lot of people were very disappointed that Ginny did not go to France the last chapter. I really felt there was no way she could be realistically expected to go at that point in their 'relationship'. Draco is no where near the angel that some reviewers seem to expect… but it's really fun reading the reactions to that chapter.

THANK YOU!! To all who reviewed… seriously, it rocks my world…. It really keeps me going with this, as I write to be read. I hope everyone is enjoying this, please let me know what you think.

Thank you again.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

Ginny worked that Friday morning like a woman-possessed. She had the newest numbers for their campaign, and they were good, but they could be better. The opening banquet would see to that.

She also had Maeve running a full report on Draco Malfoy for her. She was tired of being in the dark where he was concerned. Despite going to school together, she knew next to nothing about him, and that allowed him power.

They had arrived home the night before, only to have Draco leave the flat through the front door, in quite the Muggle fashion. He had also left without a word to her about anything that had happened. He had not returned until well after she had already fallen asleep in the guestroom, her small rebellion.

Everything and nothing had changed between them.

She had woken up in his bed, without him, but the indent on the pillow next to her own was quite enough evidence.

Their… encounter… at the ball should not have happened. She burned with shame about the whole thing, and could only chalk it up to far too much champagne. By no means a virgin, she also didn't quite know how to handle shagging in that public a place.

It had all been so… intense. She just kept thinking about how Draco had looked at her when she had come, how his formerly-cold eyes had burned.

It was easy to tell herself that she had hated it all, but her sated and sore muscles begged to differ. She was getting quite adept at not thinking about her physical wants when he was not around, and ignoring her own cautions when he was.

Glancing out one of the windows that lined the wall of her office, Ginny realized then that she was quite alone in the large office space. Usually, the team went out for a drink together on Fridays at this time, before stumbling home to their families.

It was a bit disheartening to not remember the last time she had been invited along on one of those outings. She had refused them so many times in the past, that she really couldn't fault her employees for not asking her anymore.

Ginny decided to call it a day, and packed herself off to the flat to have a quick snack and change out of her suit before meeting her friends at Daphne's.

The flat was empty on her arrival, and Ginny took full advantage of the peaceful space. Kicking her shoes off in the master bedroom, she padded into the large en-suite, determined to spend some quality time with in the large marble tub that took up one side of the room.

She pulled her clothing off as she walked, knowing from experience that it would be gone by the time she arrived home later that evening, and subsequently perfectly cleaned and pressed by the morning.

Ginny had never seen a house elf, or a housekeeper, or anyone really in Draco's flat, and she had to admit, it was impressive.

Running the hot water, Ginny pointed her wand at her hair, undoing the charms that had been holding it in place all day. As it spilled around her shoulders in a waterfall of red, she reached for the vanilla bubble bath that looked to be there for decoration at the side of the tub.

Imagining Draco using the tub for a long bath was a little too hot for her to handle at the moment. Besides, she had never really seen him simply relaxing in the flat. He always seemed to be either in his opulent study working, or eating in the kitchen.

All in all, he was not a bad roommate. Just as long as he didn't open his mouth. Trying to converse with Draco always left her frustrated.

She poured in enough of the liquid so that she would surely smell like sugar cookies for a good week. Ginny ran her fingers through the water, waiting impatiently for it to fill as glistening bubbles erupted on the surface, emitting such a heavenly aroma, that Ginny sighed.

She had explored the bathroom within a day or so of moving in, and it was everything a witch could ever want or need.

Decorated in muted whites and dusky golds, it was always sparkling clean, and the centrepiece was the magnificent tub that Ginny was about to get to know better. She had wanted to do so since arriving, but had never quite had the chance.

Well-appointed with luxuriously plush towels folded on multiple shelves around the room, Ginny was reminded of the expensive spa day that she and Daphne had taken Hermione on towards the end of her pregnancy a few years prior.

It was the same kind of atmosphere.

All of Ginny's favourite bathing products, and anything else she might feel the need for were discretely located throughout the room, but there were also reminders that she was indeed living with a male.

A very rich male, used to the very best based on the bathing products she had spotted. Even if she had not known Draco, and had never set foot in the rest of his flat she would have known.

Turning a speculative eye towards the enormous, glass enclosed shower, Ginny imagined Draco naked, and gleaming as the water poured down on him from above. Feeling her cheeks heat up, Ginny drew in a shuddering breath at the picture of his long, lean pale body in the shower.

Her breathing became ragged as she imagined joining him there, and what kind of reception he might give her.

Ginny laughed lightly, trying to break the hold the picture had over her, scrubbing lightly at her hot cheeks with both hands.

Rifling through the owl post that had accumulated in the elegant glass sculpture beside a large window, Ginny picked out the Floo registration and permit bill for her flat out of the pile, and noticed that the remainder of the small pile was clearly for Draco.

Feeling just the tiniest bit guilty over looking through someone else's post, she quickly pushed away those feelings by justified that it was mixed in with her own. That brought on some other feelings, just as unwelcome, that they were quite clearly a couple to the post owls.

It seemed to consist mainly of what looked like bills, and business correspondence. There was also a few invitations to official events that his assistant had sent over.

It was then that a personal letter caught her eye. Addressed to Draco with the return address bearing only the name Cassandra Angelio, it was an international letter. Ginny remembered receiving similar owls from Bill and Charlie when they had both worked out of the country.

She studied the small stamp that the country's Ministry had placed on the thick parchment envelope before it had left for Britain, and she recognized it as the American Ministry of Magic's symbol.

Brow furrowing, Ginny's fingers fairly itched to break the simple seal that held it together, but she resisted.

Nothing could stop her from holding it up to the nearest candle, however, to try to see through the heavy envelope.

No… nothing.

"Bugger," she muttered. What on earth was Draco Malfoy doing receiving owls from America?

She had always assumed that he had simply left for France, or somewhere similar for the duration of the war, but perhaps he had been even further away. Or was she completely off the mark, just because she was so curious about his personal history? It could very well be something to do with business, or something of the like.

And who was Cassandra Angelio? Ginny stared at the block printing that stated the name as she wondered. Was she actually a business correspondent? Or was she a friend? A lover?

Realizing her fingers were tightening on the letter, threatening to crinkle the edges, Ginny forced herself to relax.

There was nothing for it, she was jealous. Jealous of a lover who may not even exist. Deciding that she was insane for feeling that emotion where Draco was concerned, Ginny determinedly put the letter back into the midst of Draco's other post. Placing the pile back into the sculpture, Ginny took her own post with her as she walked into the bedroom

He was an enigma. It was very disconcerting to realize that he was probably the only person that she was acquainted with that she did not know almost everything about. Her friends… family… even co-workers… she had grown up with all of them. Their parents had, for the most part, all grown up together too. Draco was definitely different.

She thought back on what she did know about him.

He was a year older than she was, which meant he was probably twenty seven. Ginny actually remembered the month of his birthday from school.

"_Does he have to make such a commotion over a few rotten candies?" Ron groused, looking decidedly jealous as he watched Draco unwrap package after package at the far end of the Slytherin table. "It's sick-making, it is."_

"_Ronald. I know for a fact that your mum sends you homemade fudge on your birthdays," Hermione shot back. Her eyes never left her book, which Ginny thought was fairly remarkable. Or, it could just be that Draco Malfoy was a constant topic of disgust for Ron. _

"_Still. Does he have to unwrap it all here? Why wouldn't he unwrap it in his own bleeding common room?" Ron speared his fork into his eggs, taking a savage bite of them, still glaring over at the blond boy._

_Ginny, not paying much attention to her brother, shrugged her shoulders absentmindedly as she tried to focus on a passage in her herbology text that she was sure would be in the end-of-year examinations._

_She was also focused studiously ignoring the presence of Harry Potter beside her, just so he would realize that he was not that important to her, and that she would not, in fact, love him forever. Though, it seemed her efforts might have been in vein, as he was currently laughing about something with Seamus and Dean._

_Looking up at a burst of particularly loud laughter from her… she refused to call it something as insignificant as crush... her… well, she reasoned with herself angrily, let's face facts. He's your brother's best friend. Period. The only time he had ever noticed her was when the whole stupid Chamber of Secrets thing had happened, and even then, he was working purely on that damned heroic impulse that he couldn't seem to control._

_Thinking these angry thoughts, she looked away from emerald eyes, and fell into liquid silver. _

_Pointy-faced Draco Malfoy was watching her with an intensity that she had never really experienced. He seemed to be looking right through her, and Ginny sat paralyzed, unable to look away._

_The corner of his lip curled ever so slightly, before he turned his head to talk to Pansy Parkinson._

_Ginny shook her head, the noise in the Great Hall deafening as she realized she had not heard a thing since he had captured her gaze. It had felt like hours, but as she looked around dazedly, she realized that it had really only been seconds._

_She shook her head, and resolved not to think about the unpleasant boy any further._

That had been in June of that year, the year she would turn fifteen that same August.

So… he was to turn twenty seven in a few short months then.

Also, Ginny remembered vividly the newspaper articles from the time surrounding Draco's departure from Hogwarts. Though, because he had never made it to Hogwarts in the first place for his seventh year, she supposed he had just disappeared from the Wizarding world.

That actually had not been that unusual if she were to think back. A lot of her older friends had not returned to Hogwarts that year, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron, much to their mother's dismay.

Most of the students though, including her brother, who weren't at Hogwarts, were very much fighting in the war. Draco was not… in fact, it had been a bit of a surprise when he had appeared back in the financial core almost five years ago.

Galleons seem to leave little room for questions, Ginny thought somewhat sourly.

She also remembered reading something about his mother, but it was so long ago that Ginny was having a hard time recalling what exactly the article had said. It might be extremely beneficial for her to ask Maeve to look into Draco Malfoy the next day.

Ginny checked her watch, and cursed as it was getting dangerously close to '_hurry, or you will be late_'.

She and Daphne had talked a little since their… not so pleasant evening a few weeks prior, and things were still slightly chilly between the two. She could see why Daphne might be upset… Suddenly, Ginny seemed to be very serious with one of her childhood friends, and Daphne hadn't known a thing about it.

Feeling really guilty now, Ginny decided to actually put some effort into her appearance, knowing that it would please her much-more fashion conscious friend.

She pulled out a silk top in varying shades of lavender to go with her denims, and spent some time on the few makeup charms that she could do herself that wouldn't irritate her skin, and left her hair free to trail down her back.

The evening was uneventful. They stayed at Daphne's, drinking white wine, and chatting about their weeks. The controversial topic of Draco Malfoy was studiously avoided, and Ginny felt confident that she and Daphne were well on the road to full recovery.

She left at little after midnight, and found Draco prowling through the flat, his small square spectacles perched on his nose, speaking in a low voice into a little black box.

Staring for a moment, wondering if perhaps the former Slytherin had gone quite mad to be talking to an inanimate object, Ginny then realized he was actually on a very small Muggle cell phone. Hermione had pointed them out to her on numerous trips into London when Ginny had been quite convinced that something had gotten into the water supply causing Muggles to go mad and talk to themselves.

Relieved that she was not in fact living with a crazy person, and yet confused at the sight of Draco with using a Muggle gadget with such proficiency, Ginny stepped out of the fire grate with a click of her heels.

He seemed unsurprised to see her, and Ginny had to wonder exactly what wards protected the flat, and how it all worked. She really would have to ask Hermione to stop by and maybe switch a few things around to get under Malfoy's skin.

Smiling evilly at the thought, Ginny raised her hand in a little finger wave to the blond bane of her existence, and went to walk past him to get to kitchen.

"Nice evening?" He raised a golden eyebrow as she turned to look at him in disbelief. She noticed him slip the little box… cell phone… into his pocket.

"Are you actually making a comment that is not about sex, a thinly veiled insult, or some sort of effort to wind me up?" Ginny clutched her heart dramatically. "Good Gods man, next thing you know, you'll be asking me about my day, and how work was. It's a slippery slope."

Draco slowly smiled, that killer smile that worked to make Ginny feel slightly weak in the knees. "Would you like me to instead tell you just how fantastic that shirt makes your tits look? That I can see how hard your nipples are getting just standing there?"

Ginny drew in a shaky breath, and resisted the urge to look down. "That, as sad as it is, does sound more normal coming from you."

"Well, I will be more than happy to oblige." His smile widened as he entered her personal space, and Ginny looked up at him defiantly.

He got close enough that Ginny could feel the heat of his long body, and slowly lowered his head until his lips rested right beside her ear. "You want me. I can always tell. Your skin gets so beautifully pink right along here…" He traced a line along her collarbone with one long finger, and Ginny's breath shuddered.

"Your nipples are so hard, I can tell that they're almost hurting you right now… I know that the seam of those jeans are rubbing so deliciously along your clit… that's exactly where I wish my tongue were right now."

Ginny's mouth opened on a sigh, and she shifted her weight. He was right. And his low voice was putting most of her sexual encounters to shame with just the slightest effort on his part.

"Would you like to tell me about your day now?" He stepped back, and looked down at her with a smirk just playing around the corners of his lips.

Ginny drew in a ragged breath, noticing how his eyes immediately went to her chest on the action, and realized that no matter how in thrall of him he made her, he was in just as bad a shape.

She looked down, and noticed that he was hard. Very hard against the material of his trousers, and she felt a rush of desire, as well as power.

This time, she stepped into his personal space, one hand locking around that hardness, relishing the darkening of his eyes as he stared down at her. He made no move, his arms at his sides in no effort to touch her.

Going onto her toes, one hand splayed on his chest to keep her balance, Ginny placed her mouth beside his ear. As she did this, she made sure to tightly grasp him where he was pressing into her hip.

Draco had no outward reaction to this, but Ginny could feel his muscles tensing… against both of her hands.

Power really was an aphrodisiac, and it looked like Draco Malfoy liked the idea of her taking charge.

Ginny did not quite have the courage to whisper naughty things to him like he had to her, so she settled on drawing the lobe of his ear into her mouth, and biting it softly. Draco shuddered ever so slightly, and she ran her tongue along the curl of his outer ear.

This got a reaction.

The flat blurred in her vision as Ginny found herself picked up, and rushed out of the living room. She next had a coherent thought when she was unceremoniously dumped, completely naked, on the large master bed.

Long, cool, elegant, masculine hands slid up her warm skin, making her shiver at the contrast in temperatures. Ginny gasped as he explored her thoroughly, his eyes shimmering in the faint streetlight that flitted through the window at the side of the room.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, his voice holding the unmistakable thread of authority that she had come to know as one of his trademarks. Ginny, unable to resist, stared up at his fallen angel face as he lowered his long lean body on top of her own.

Her breath hitched at the contact, and she curled her fingers around his biceps, looking for an anchor. Draco smirked at her ferally before lowering his head to capture her lips, his tongue sliding along the crease with sensuous skill.

He stayed there for long moments, fully exploring her mouth, until Ginny felt like she might go crazy. She lifted her leg to wrap around his, moving her foot up and down to feel his skin roughened by pale hair.

Draco rewarded the movement by moving his hips into the space that she had created, and grinding his hardness into her. Ginny gasped against his lips as he rubbed against her, and he simply smiled in return before moving away again.

Hands falling to her sides on the bed, Ginny watched as he lifted that leg, and placed a delicate kiss behind her knee. Goosepimples formed on the sensitive skin there, and Ginny closed her eyes.

He lowered her leg back to the bed, and stroked a line of fire from her collarbone, between her straining breasts, to her navel. Light as a feather, his fingers moved to circle her bellybutton, making the somewhat ticklish Ginny squirm at the sensations, before it continued on to the patch of bright red curls that shielded her from him.

Ginny's breath caught and held as she opened her eyes again, and looked up to find him staring intently at her face. As their eyes caught, he moved that finger lower, finding her moist and soft.

Letting out a sigh, Ginny closed her eyes again as Draco traced her, his fingers moving knowledgeably against her quim, before settling at the entrance.

"Look at me," he repeated his earlier command, his finger hovering just before where she wanted it.

She shook her head resolutely. Everything was too much right then.

"Ginny, look at me," his voice softened further, "I want to see those beautiful eyes when I make you cum."

Her eyes snapped open, and he smiled slightly in triumph before his expression became one of serious hunger. She groaned, low and sensual, shocking herself, as he pushed his hand forward.

Ginny arched her back, her breath coming in quick gasps, unable to control her reactions. She moaned again as he added another finger, curling them forward and hitting a spot that made Ginny feel as if she were seeing stars. Draco moved his head down to suck her clit between his lips and rasped his tongue against the ultra-sensitive tip.

Ginny screamed, a low fierce sound from the back of her throat, arching her back right off the bed and grabbing at the soft sheets with both hands. Sweat trailed at her hairline, and her skin glowed pink in the darkened room.

As her body was still contracting fiercely, she felt Draco rearrange her limbs, feeling like something akin to a puppet, and he slid in smoothly.

This proved to lengthen her climax, and Ginny shuddered uncontrollably as her body clenched around his cock again and again.

She could vaguely hear Draco moaning beside her ear, but it was really hard to think beyond her own pleasure just then.

That is, until he moved his hips. He slammed into her hard, again and again, rocking his pelvis bone against her swollen clit, and she screamed once more, hoarsely, as she felt his warmth flood her loins before oblivion claimed her.

A/N: Hi All!! I've been getting this story cleaned up by a wonderful beta, but we're only at chapter 6 so far. A few things have changed, some scenes have been added, some plot issues have been addressed. I haven't put them up yet, as I want to just do the whole thing, but I've had some very upset readers asking about when Chapter 13 was going up. So… here it is. It's not betaed, but I will replace it when it is.

Also, I just realized a couple of weeks ago that this story has been nominated for as 'classic' story over on FIA (www dot dracoandginny dot com). Thank you so much!! I'm really quite proud of my little piece of DG, and it means so much. 


	14. Chapter 14

UPDATE: So, yeah, I have gone off of writing in the last couple of years, but I am now trying to get back into it. I am really trying to finish this story, and I know there are a few reviewers who have been asking for any kind of update. Please think of the below as the first half of chapter 14. It is not finished, nor is it betaed at this point, I just needed to send it out here to see what you think. :)

I don't own anything recognizable as always.

Chapter 14:

And to think there was a time when Ginny had wished that she had more occasions to dress up.

She no longer looked forward to it.

Being with Draco was more difficult than she had even guessed at.

She was again sewn into a custom-made dress, but this one was so form-fitting that it was a little bit difficult to breath, and she kept looking down to make sure that everything was covered as it should be. The older gentleman seated across from her also appeared to have the same idea concerning her attire, and his eyes had been glued on her chest from the moment that they were seated almost an hour prior.

If it had been Seamus staring at her, she would have hit him by now, but that seemed vaguely inappropriate considering the formality of the occasion, and the age of the gentlemen in question.

Draco, damn his eyes, was sprawled indolently beside her, watching everything around him from behind his thick eyelashes. Ginny shot him a quick glare out of the corner of her eyes, wishing that dinner was over and that they could finally go home.

_Home_. Two months into their… arrangement, and she was already thinking of Draco's flat as her home.

"Having fun?" Ginny jumped, narrowly missing Draco's chin as he leaned over to whisper into her ear.

Narrowing her eyes at his husky laughter, she turned to face him, realizing as she did so just how close they were. Her breath caught as she came within inches of kissing him accidently, and she pulled back slightly even as he smirked at her.

"Something like that," she answered, trying very hard to ignore his affect on her body. It was frightening to realize that she might never get used to his charisma. Instead, the magnetism that existed between that had not diminished in the last couple of months, but instead had grown. Sharing a bed with the man every night, sharing her body with him, well, she had never been so satisfied in her life, so incredibly sated, but dealing with him on a day to day basis… well…

Add to that that her mother was now dropping not-so-subtle hints about Draco coming to a Weasely dinner and Ginny was approaching a nervous wreck.

"You look beautiful." Draco's husky voice interrupted her thoughts, and she raised her eyes to his in shock, and to be completely honest, pleasure. Draco gave out compliments incredibly sparingly. If he thought she looked beautiful, than she truly did. He would have told her if he thought she looked otherwise, or if anything else caught his notice. It was vaguely disconcerting to speak with Draco, as he always seemed to pick his words with a great deal of forethought. He was also incredibly intelligent, and seemed to observe everything around him behind his air of indifference.

Ginny licked her lips as she fell into his gaze, realizing that his pupils had dilated, and the grey had deepened significantly. Her breath caught in her throat as he reached out a pale, elegant hand, and settled it on the back of her neck, gently massaging the soft skin there.

He was always able to turn her on so easily. Shaking with the intensity of her want, Ginny turned back to the table, turning a blind eye on the lecherous older man as she reached for her fork to take another bite of the antipasto.

"I want you," Draco breathed into her ear as he played with a loose curl that ran the length of the side of her neck. Biting her lip, Ginny resolved to ignore him. It was incredibly gratifying, despite his propensity for sexual advances in public places, to know that he was not unaffected.

In fact, he seemed to go up in flames just as easily as she did. She had never met anyone who was more attuned to her sexually.

Feeling his hand sliding up her leg, hidden by the table cloth, Ginny shot Draco a glare and moved away slightly. He followed, effectively trapping her as she could not risk encroaching on the personal space of the elderly witch seated to her left.

His hand found her leg again, plucking at the thin silk that encased them, reminding her of his open disdain for the barrier that had kept him from touching her as he wished in the past.

Ginny reached a hand down to grab his wrist, trying to appear casual. Unfortunately, everywhere that they went, Draco was so famous that he tended to attract attention. She looked around furtively as she tried, in vain, to pull him away from under her dress. Luckily, the main course was making its appearance on their plates, and most of the other guests seemed to be more interested in that than the fact that Draco Malfoy was trying to defile his date in front of two hundred people.

Feeling his fingers between her heated thighs, Ginny clenched them together in an attempt to get him to cease his advances.

Ginny tensed, feeling his lips against her ear. "Let me in," he commanded softly. She shook her head, and resolutely took another sip of wine from her goblet before turning her head to engage the witch across from her in a conversation about the state of the Wizarding economy in England.

She faltered when she felt him moving his hand against the enclosure of her thighs, but continued to focus her attention on the inflation of the galleon. That changed, however, when his clever fingers found the edge of the tiny panties that were the only undergarments that her tight dress allowed for. Her gasp when he plunged a long finger deep inside of her wet heat gained the attention of half of their table.

"Are you unwell, Miss. Weasely?" The witch beside, old Mrs. Dillser, who happened to be a distant relative of her mother's, touched a fragile hand to Ginny's forearm. Ginny, trying to control her panting as Draco's thumb rubbed slow circles against the tip of her sensitive clit, smiled painfully at Mrs. Dillser, thanking her for her unnecessary concern.

Draco simply smiled, and took a bite of his risotto with the hand that was not currently driving her insane. Ginny sputtered while trying to explain to the grandmotherly type witch that she was absolutely fine. His other hand was working her quim into a frothy mess underneath her dress, and she could feel the now-familiar heat starting to spread through her lower belly.

Ginny started to move her hips in time with his fingers involuntarily as she gripped the edge of the table, trying to keep from vocalising her impending release. Then, just as suddenly as he had started, Draco, the Bastard, removed his hand altogether, leaving her hanging on the edge of the precipice.

"I hate you," she muttered darkly, trying to gain control over her own body.

Draco smiled darkly. "I know."

It was late by the time that Draco led the way back home, Ginny wincing with every step she took in the ridiculously high heels.

"Seriously, why do I always end up wearing these things?" she groused, watching the back of his shining head as he stepped away from the floo to allow her entrance.

He glanced at her, skimming his eyes to her legs, before bringing his eyes back to her face. "They make your arse look fantastic."

Ginny blinked. "Thank you… I think."

He inclined his head as he picked up a pile of paperwork from the edge of the table where he had left it earlier in the day.

Ginny knew the exact moment that he tuned her out, but she didn't really feel all that insulted by it. Draco was just so intense. He turned his attention from one thing to the next, and it was a relief sometimes to not have that intensity focused upon her.

Pulling off her shoes as she made her way to the bedroom, Ginny pulled out her oldest pair of lounge pants that had, truthfully, probably belonged to Charlie at some point, pairing it with one of the twin's old Gryffindor jerseys.

Draco's husky laughter alerted her to the fact that he had indeed noticed her exit and followed. She turned around with a golden-red eyebrow raised inquisitively. "May I help you?"

"Always."

"Not everything is a sexual invitation, Draco."

He smiled slowly, his perfect teeth glinting in the soft light, before speaking, "but it does make everything so much more interesting."

Ginny shook her head, and made her way to the door which was blocked by his lean frame. With a mocking incline of his head, he moved out of her way so that she could proceed to the kitchen to obtain a glass of water.

Standing at the sink, staring blankly through the window that looked out over Muggle London, Ginny struggled to calm her nerves which were still tingling from her near-orgasm of earlier. She closed her eyes, and rested the side of the cool glass against her forehead, feeling fevered from Draco's mere presence in the flat.

This is insane, she told herself wildly. It was insane that one man could have such an affect on all of her senses. A man that she didn't even like. A man that was making her feel things that she had never felt.


End file.
